Tales of the Dragonborn
by Mr. Hybrid
Summary: A collection of oneshots, AUs, and miniseries based on "The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim"
1. Not on the List

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. I own nothing except original content.

 **Tales of the Dragonborn**

* * *

Author's Notes

→ So, this is basically a collection of oneshots, miniseries, and 'what-if's' related to "The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim" and its add-ons. Continuity is loose at best.

* * *

What-if #1: Not on the List

* * *

"You with one of the trade caravans, Khajiit? Your kind always seems to find trouble. I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to Elsweyr." Alyssa looked down at the ground with a sullen sigh. She tried to hold her head up high, however. Her aquamarine eyes met with Hadvar's brown eyes. She tried to maintain a stoic gaze, but felt that anyone with half a mind could see right through the facade. Hadvar turned to the Imperial Captain, "Captain, what should we do? She's not on the list."

The Captain turned and opened her mouth to say something, but paused. "Let me see that list," Hadvar passed the paper in his hand to the Captain, who looked it over. Next to each name on the list was a brief, but specific description of the individuals they were looking for. Upon looking it over, she realized that the list did not, at any point, say the name 'Alyssa' nor the description, 'Khajiit female, fairly muscular, sleek white-gray fur, black ear tufts, and aquamarine eyes.' The Captain looked up at the Khajiit in question, then turned to Hadvar, "It seems my men need some additional training. But, it'll have to wait until after the executions. Hadvar, take the civilian and go stand over there with the carriages. And cut her bonds, she's free to go, after we get this mess sorted out."

"Follow me, civilian." Alyssa's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. At Hadvar's prompting, Alyssa followed him off to the side, the quiet breeze making her shiver. Hadvar led her to the carriages, away from the crowd. He unsheathed an iron dagger and gestured for her to hold out her hands. A strange sound, not unlike a roar, echoed through the area and everyone paused. Hadvar muttered aloud, "What was that?" The Captain insisted that it was nothing and they resumed the trials. Alyssa held her hands out, sparing a glance toward Ralof and the other prisoners. She saw the executioner raise his axe high above his head, before bringing it down on one of the Stormcloaks. With a quiet squeak, she turned away just before the axe hit. Hadvar took notice as he cut through the ropes. "I want to apologize for the 'remains' comment earlier. I'm glad you're here instead of on the block. After the trials are done, I'll help escort you back to Elsweyr."

Alyssa grinned a bit at the thought of returning home, but had business to do in Skyrim, and was about to tell Hadvar when Tulius yelled, "What in Oblivion is that?"

A massive, black-skinned, winged monstrosity flew toward Helgen, gliding down and landing on top of a tower. Everyone stood and stared, too awestruck to move, until the dragon opened its maw and unleashed a blast of wind-like energy that sent people and objects flying. Alyssa and Hadvar were struck by the blast and separated. The Khajiit didn't fly far before hitting the ground, and after a moment to recollect her senses, tried to get up when an arm wrapped around her shoulder, "Hey, Khajiit. Get up!" A second roar from the Dragon shook the very ground around them as the sky seemed to tear itself open to release fiery meteors.

Alyssa turned to the Nord holding her and came face-to-face with Ralof, "Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!" Taking her hand in his, Ralof pulled Alyssa along until one of the meteors struck close to them. The force of the impact stumbled Alyssa, causing her to let go of Ralof. He turned to yell behind him, "This way! Come on!" She scrambled back onto her feet and ran after Ralof. He dashed into the nearest open door, turned around and called to her, "In here!" She took a couple steps, then leaped, arms outstretched, through the door. Cold stone and hay broke her fall and she heard the door slam shut behind her. As she got back on her feet, she turned to see Ralof cutting through Ulfric's bonds, then removing the cloth around his mouth, "Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?"

Ulfric spared a glance at the Khajiit in rags, before turning back to Ralof, "Legends don't burn down villages. We need to move. Now!"

Ralof directed Alyssa up the tower. Halfway up the stairs, the dragon burst through the wall. The two of them stumbled as the dragon exhaled fire in an attempt to burn the tower's occupants. The dragon then left the tower and the duo glanced up at the ruined staircase. Ralof glanced out the hole, then turned to Alyssa, "See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going!" Alyssa paused for a moment, prompting Ralof to more sternly declare, "Go! We'll follow when we can!" Alyssa looked out the hole and for a moment, felt a bit disoriented, but mustered her courage, took a couple steps back, and leaped out of the building, crashing through the hole in the roof, and landing on her side. She did her best to ignore the pain and made her way out of the building. In her attempts to get out of the building, she ran into Hadvar again, who told her to follow him. They made their way through the burning village, dodging the dragon whenever it appeared, until they reached a brief clearing and made a bee-line for the keep and crossed paths with Ralof.

While Hadvar and Ralof traded words for a moment, Alyssa had to stop to think. 'Who should I go with?' The two finished their argument and ran to different doors into the keep, calling for Alyssa. She turned to Hadvar and thought, 'He saved me from the executioner.' She spared a glance at Ralof, 'He saved me from the dragon.' She thought for a moment when a meteor struck the ground right by her. Stumbling for a moment, she recovered, having made her decision. She started running and yelled, "Hadvar! Wait up!"

* * *

A/N

→ The idea behind this 'What-if' comes from the in-game fact that the player character is still sentenced to death despite not 'being on the list,' which I realize skewed player perceptions of the factions in Skyrim. This idea is basically, "What if the Captain didn't sentence the player to death as well?" My interpretation is that, outside of the initial differences, not much would change beyond making the Empire seem a bit more reasonable compared to the bloodthirstiness shown in-game.


	2. Properties

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. I own nothing except original content.

* * *

One-shot #1: Properties

* * *

"Housecarl Lydia!" The Nord in question winced at hearing her full title, especially considering that both of them were in the same room of the house, never-mind the fact that Breezehome was a tiny house with only four rooms to begin with (five if counting the hallway between their bedrooms and the lower floor).

"My Thane, you know you don't have to address me by my full title?" Quietly, she added to herself, "Especially not so loud when we're in the same room."

Alyssa seemed to ignore the comment and joined her at the table, pushing aside a couple plates and cups to make room for a map that she had with her. She unrolled the map and laid it across the table for Lydia to see. Lydia stared at the map for a few long seconds before asking, "What am I looking at?"

"A map of Skyrim. But look at it."

Lydia stared at the map for a good three minutes before asking Alyssa, "So... what am I supposed to see?"

The Khajiit's grin widened and she pointed at the map, "I own property in all Nine Holds now. See, there's this house here, Breezehome. I now own Hjerim in Windhelm, Honeyside in Riften, Proudspire Manor in Solitude, Vlindrel Hall in Markarth, Windstad Manor in Hjaalmarch, Lakeview Manor in Falkreath, and Heljarchen Hall in The Pale!"

"...This is what you were doing when you disappeared for three weeks?" Lydia's tone of voice made Alyssa's ears fold back in shame and her grin fade. Lydia didn't raise her voice though, "You know, I worry for you when you leave and don't return for days, or even weeks. When I last saw you, you had Steel Plate armor on, now you're wearing this." She gestured to the black armor with silver trimmings. "I know buying and building houses is safer than say, exploring Nordic Ruins or going toe-to-toe with the Dark Brotherhood, but at the very least I could've helped!" Alyssa was about to open her mouth to mention the vampires and the Forsworn she dealt with among other things to get the houses, but elected not to say so. Lydia glanced at her mug, half-full of Nord Mead and muttered in a somber tone, "We haven't done anything together for a long time, my Thane."

Alyssa was surprised at Lydia's sudden expression of sadness, having gotten used to the reverent and sometimes sarcastic comments the Housecarl normally made, "...I'm sorry we haven't done more together. And I blame the Courier's route and schedule for not being around to deliver my letters. But you know what? Now that I've got some free time, I was thinking maybe we'd hang out here for a bit. I was going to rest up a bit, then we could head over to the Bannered Mare. How does that sound?"

Lydia gave a weak grin, "It's a start. Maybe I could tag along for the next Bounty you hunt?" Alyssa's eyes widened at the question.

She glanced ahead at the wall before answering, "I'll think about it. I am a bit tired after all that work. You're welcome to join me." At Lydia's surprised stare, Alyssa tried to correct herself, "You know- You could- We could..." The Khajiit found herself at a loss for words, unable to tell Lydia what she meant to say. She growled in frustration and rested her head on the table.

Lydia took note, "My Thane? Did you mean to say that we could continue this conversation upstairs?" Alyssa looked up and nodded, calmer than she would have expected. She got up from the table, telling Lydia she was going to get out of her Ebony Armor and into something more comfortable and for Lydia to come upstairs whenever possible.

When Lydia finished her small meal, she made her way to Alyssa's room and found the Khajiit, stripped down to all but her black undergarments, wide awake and staring at the ceiling, arms folded under the pillow of the bed she was laying on. Lydia, having gotten used to Alyssa's 'sleepwear,' took a seat at the table next to the door to the bedroom. "Lydia, could you close that door? I know I locked the front door, but I'd feel better if you did." As per her Thane's command, Lydia stood back up and closed the doors before sitting back down. Alyssa decided that it was the perfect time to speak, "I've been thinking about it. Next bandit leader, tomorrow, we'll go do that, and then we'll go explore a Dwemer ruin together, unless something turns up."

Lydia leaned forward in her seat, "Dwemer ruin? My Thane, are you certain that you could handle something like that?"

Alyssa gave a half-hearted chuckle, "Maybe, there's no time like the present. And Lydia? Could you please just call me Alyssa? I know you're my Housecarl and I'm your Thane, but I'd rather you see me as your equal, not your superior."

Lydia grinned a bit, "I always saw myself more as your guardian. It worked out pretty well when that dragon ambushed us during our raid on that Stormcloak encampment."

Alyssa responded with a hearty laugh, "Yeah, those were good times... Tell you what, after we clear Mzinchaleft and Broken Oar Grotto, how about we go and visit Hadvar? I don't think you've been properly introduced to him. He's the Nord who..." Lydia asked Alyssa if everything was alright when she trailed off. Alyssa shook her head to clear her thoughts, "Yeah, he's the Nord who you saw me talking to outside of Riverwood, when we were on our way to Orphan Rock."

Alyssa couldn't suppress the yawn that followed and Lydia acknowledged it, "Perhaps you should take a nap. From the looks of it, you need it. I'll wake you up around nightfall."

Alyssa turned onto her side and curled up slightly, "You should sleep as well, Lydia. We have a long night ahead of us." Lydia nodded and left the bedroom, shutting the doors behind her as she did. Shortly after she left, Alyssa drifted off into the deep recesses of her dreams.

* * *

Her eyes snapped open and for just a moment, Alyssa felt like she couldn't move and panicked. She gasped and felt her entire body twitch. She frantically scrambled into an upright position while looking every direction she could. Realizing that she was back in reality, she tried to calm down, slowing her hyperventilation and pressing her hand against her chest as if hoping that would calm her racing heartbeat.

She took in a slow, deep breath through her nose, and exhaled through her mouth, reassuring herself mentally. 'It's just a dream. There's no dragon burning down villages, no executioner trying to cut my head off, no fiery rocks falling from the sky. I'm in my house in Whiterun, with Lydia.' She pressed a paw against her head, 'Gods dammit! Ever since I visited Dawnstar, I've seen that goddamn nightmare!' She tried to distract herself from the nightmare by trying to remember what her plan was for the night.

Her answer came in the form of Lydia opening the door to her room, "Ready for- Alyssa? Is everything alright?" Alyssa tried her best to give a calm nod. Lydia seemed to accept this, "Then we better get ready. I received an invitation from Hulda inviting us to a small celebration at the Bannered Mare."

"...Lydia? Remember what I said about going to Broken Oar Grotto and Mzinchaleft? Slight change of plans. _We're_ going to stop by Dawnstar before then."

Lydia expressed her disbelief, "What do you expect to find there?"

Alyssa's answer came out shakier than she would've preferred, all but telling Lydia that she'd been scared by something, "W-we're going to talk to someone I know... After we go to the Bannered Mare." Lydia grinned a bit.

As she turned to leave, she glanced back at Alyssa, "I'll be downstairs if you need me." With that, she closed the door, leaving Alyssa alone with her thoughts for the moment. She got up off the bed and began getting dressed, choosing to slip back into her Ebony Armor in the hopes that she'd feel safer. She found herself slightly uncomfortable in the chest area upon managing to slip into the Cuirass. 'I ought to get this refitted.'

* * *

After having gotten ready, the duo left Breezehome and walked up the empty street to the Bannered Mare. The sun was setting and it was bound to be dark soon. Everywhere else was closing up shop for the coming night. Coincidentally, nightfall was when the party was supposed to take place. Thus, the only people not at the party or going to bed were the Whiterun Guards, who had switched to the night guards.

Once they were inside the pub, the duo found seats at the bar and decided to, at the moment, spend their time there. Alyssa had ordered a mug of Honningbrew Mead, which surprised Lydia a bit herself, having not expected Alyssa to be much of a drinker in the first place. When asked about it, Alyssa simply told her, "It's sweeter than all the other varieties I know about." This satisfied Lydia a bit, who decided to listen to the Bard singing about Ragnar the Red, a song that she'd heard before, one of her favorites. Things remained relatively quiet for the next hour.

"Say, isn't that the Khajiit you mentioned earlier?" A conversation near her piqued Lydia's interest and she decided to listen. "The one you said was adopted by a Bosmer couple?"

"Looks like her. But it was a Khajiit and a Nord who were raising her."

"A Nord and a Khajiit living together? How do you know that?"

"I know because that Nord was one of the people I delivered to. We got into long conversations about her. I first met her when I was still a courier and she was a little kitten, barely able to hold a dagger. But if you'd seen her, you could tell she lived like a Nord and carried a Nord's name proudly until you lost track of her and realized she'd taken your sweetroll. She was so innocent, it's a damn shame what happened to her caretakers."

"What happened to them?"

"I'm not sure. I was on my way through Elsweyr to deliver a package of sweetrolls, the Nord wasn't where he usually was, so I figured I'd leave them at the house. Door was open, and the poor girl was curled up in a corner crying. I found out later that she'd been sent to another couple, but beyond that I lost track of her."

"And you're certain that's her?"

"With the Divines as my witness. She looks exactly like that little one from my working days."

"I think I saw her a few days ago, she was visiting the stables with another Khajiit. One from the trade caravans, I think."

"Why would one of the traders leave the caravan?"

"I heard something about a favor, something about helping the trade caravan with carrying their stock. They bought a horse, from what I saw."

The conversation intrigued Lydia, who turned to ask Alyssa a question, only to see that she'd passed out, mug in hand, on the bar. She reached and gently shook the Khajiit awake. Alyssa gave a small groan and looked up, "Hmm...? Lydia? Everything alright?"

Lydia gave Alyssa a half-grin, "Can't hold your mead?" Alyssa gave her a drunken glare that made her chuckle. Alyssa couldn't help but laugh a bit as well. She seemed much more relaxed than Lydia had expected. It made her wonder just what she'd been through the past few days, and she was a bit interested in hearing about this other Khajiit. She had seen the trade caravans a few times and had a couple ideas about who it might be. She then realized that Alyssa was giving her a sultry look and asked, "Is there something on your mind?"

Alyssa managed to slur out, "Yurr braids is purty." She stood up from her seat and looked over at Lydia. She stumbled a bit, causing Lydia to shoot out of her seat and steady her. Alyssa gave her an immature grin, "You're holdin' muh hand." Lydia started wondering if the Bannered Mare was a good idea in the first place. Upon seeing Alyssa almost fall over again, she realized that for her, the party was already over. "Let's get you home, my Thane." Alyssa mumbled in protest to being called Thane, but gave up as she was escorted out of the Bannered Mare and back home.

Once back home, Lydia helped Alyssa get out of her Ebony Armor, and get her into her bed. As she left, Alyssa called out to her, "Lydee?"

Lydia sighed at the new 'nickname' and turned around, smiling, "Yes?"

She was slightly surprised to see Alyssa looking scared, "Cou'd yuh stay here wif me t'night?" Lydia thought about it.

She turned and asked Alyssa, "Is everything alright?" When Alyssa shook her head, she closed the doors and knelt next to the bed.

Despite being out of sorts, Alyssa was able to tell Lydia what the problem was, "I had a nightmare 'bout Helg'n." Lydia reached across the bed and held Alyssa's hand.

"I'll stay with you until you go to sleep, alright?" Alyssa gave a small grin and mouthed out a thanks before settling onto the bed and curling up, still holding Lydia's hand, though her grip had loosened enough that Lydia could slip out without a problem. She looked down at Alyssa and realized that the Khajiit had already fallen asleep.

* * *

A/N

→ Where did this scene come from? The original version of this oneshot was going to be about Dovahkiin's first trap (a hint of it is mentioned in passing). I decided instead that maybe, it wouldn't be a bad idea to instead try and show personal relationships between characters, as well as provide some backstory for fun. This oneshot might hint at some concepts that might be explored later on in additional oneshots, AU's, or Miniseries.


	3. Penitus Oculatus Questline Pt 1

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. Original content © Me

* * *

Quest-line AU: Penitus Oculatus Quest-line

"1: Raising a Fuss"

* * *

 _4:13 P.M. Turdas, Dragon Bridge..._

Alyssa paused for a moment. She glanced at Kharjo, who simply shrugged back. Quietly irritated at the unhelpful motion, the Khajiit took a deep breath, then knocked on the door of the Penitus Oculatus Outpost and waited for an answer. A few seconds passed and the door was answered by a single Warrior. He gave Alyssa a quick look before addressing her, "Citizen?"

"I wish to speak with Commander Maro."

"What is your purpose?"

"I want to ask him a couple of questions related to a group of assassins."

"...Aye, a sensitive topic it is. Come inside, it's not safe out here." Alyssa nodded and grinned at the agent as he let her in, Kharjo right behind her.

On the inside, the Penitus Oculatus Outpost wasn't very impressive. Aside from a couple flags bearing the symbol of their faction, it looked almost exactly like another house she'd been in, though she couldn't guess right off the bat which one it was. On one of the beds next to the fireplace was a sleeping Battlemage, and on the other bed was an Imperial she assumed was Commander Maro. The Warrior agent behind her and Kharjo moved to his side and whispered in his ear. Commander Maro stood up and walked up to the two, "You wished to see me about the Dark Brotherhood?"

"Yes."

"I would appreciate any information related to their activities, but may I first ask who you two are?"

"I'm Alyssa, I was recently named Thane of Whiterun by Jarl Balgruuf the Greater. You might have heard of me."

Commander Maro's left eyebrow raised, "I seem to recall hearing something about one of Whiterun's Thanes getting in trouble for something. I think they said it was... shouting?"

Alyssa looked away, quietly embarrassed, "...That was me."

The Commander turned to the Khajiit next to Alyssa, "And who's this?"

"He's Kharjo. He's with the trade caravans. I did a favor for him and he's agreed to help me with something in return, which leads me to why I'm here."

"Yes, you said there was an issue with an assassin."

"Three of them. In the past two weeks, I've had to deal with three assassination attempts, the last one happening while Kharjo was helping me with a delivery, all three with orders from an Astrid and involving something called a 'Black Sacrament.' When I informed a guard about these attempts, he directed me to you, suggesting that you can help with our problem."

Commander Maro's eyes widened, "You survived three attempts on your life? Ordered by the Dark Brotherhood no less? That is impressive. I think that guard was right to direct you here. You might be able to help us with this issue and hopefully make Skyrim a safer place for everyone." He held up a note, "We recently intercepted one such assassin and gained knowledge of their next target, an old lady running an Orphanage in Riften by the name of Grelod the Kind. Apparently, someone named Aventus Aretino put a contract on her. Can't say I blame him, when we approached her about the contract, she was... rather irritable in dismissing us."

The Warrior interjected, "She specifically told us to 'go to Oblivion' and threatened to call the guards on us, Commander." Commander Maro gave the Warrior an eye-twitching glare that silenced him, then turned back to the two Khajiits.

"As it is, I think we may have a way to get the Brotherhood's attention. It may be a bit difficult to explain to the guards, but it should work."

"I'll volunteer. It'll save you the trouble."

"You would? That's very generous of you. Though, I feel that going into the situation with no idea would do no good and get you in prison for sure. Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"...Yes."

"You'll have to kill Grelod the Kind."

"I'm sorry?"

"Did I stutter? Kill Grelod the Kind. She's a Dark Brotherhood target. Steal their target, get their attention. Get their attention, catch them off guard. We'll deal with any problems that arise with the guards."

* * *

Since he had given them the order, Alyssa and Kharjo had made haste to Riften, discussing what they'd have to do all the way up to the point where they were standing in front of Honorhall Orphanage. Kharjo decided to wait outside while Alyssa went inside. Before she did, he left her a warning, "I may be able to take on a guard or two, but not the entire hold. Try and keep it quiet."

Upon entering the Orphanage, Alyssa witnessed Grelod the Kind, giving a group of four kids a verbal lashing that prompted her to stand out of sight, peeking around the corner to watch the spectacle. She listened in to the lecture for a few more seconds, before feeling a rising anger daring her to act. It was an incredible urge that she found herself unknowingly listening to, and without realizing it, she was walking straight into the children's room, past the kids and straight up to Grelod. She seemed to have a moment of clarity when Grelod took note of her presence, "Can I help you? If not, get out of my Orphanage."

In that moment, Alyssa felt an odd sensation, as if all noises in the room somehow became farther away, as though they were faint and distorted. Her mind only seemed to register as though Grelod the Kind, and everyone else in the building, was nothing more than an annoyance. Insects that decided to buzz around her for some insignificant purpose. She wasn't certain how to best describe the feeling beyond an insatiable urge to put the annoyance in front of her in her place. Were her mouth not hidden under her helmet, she felt like she would've Shouted Grelod into submission. Her hand reached for her sword and in one swift, fluid motion, the Ebony weapon slashed through the air and across Grelod's neck.

As Grelod collapsed and Constance Michel screamed, Alyssa snapped out of her trance while the children, against what she would've expected, began cheering. The noises all around her seemed to fade away as the weight of what she just did hit her in seconds. Realizing that the guards would come in and investigate, Alyssa elected not to stay and face a prison sentence.

Kharjo was surprised to see her barge through the door and grab his hand. "Kharjo, we need to leave! Hold on tight!" The duo ran away from Honorhall Orphanage, until they reached the path to the door out of the city. He was surprised to see her remove her helmet with her free hand and yell out, " _Wuld... nah kest!_ " She shot forward like an arrow, her feet no longer touching the ground, and an awestruck Kharjo in tow as they pushed through the door in their mad rush to escape. The effect of her Voice faded a couple yards away from Riften's entrance and the duo stopped to catch their breath, especially Alyssa.

Kharjo, the instant he could speak again, declared, "That was fun! I wouldn't mind doing that again."

Alyssa coughed a bit and rasped out, "I would." She grabbed a canteen and took a few sips of water. Afterward, she gestured to her horse, "Hop on." She climbed onto her horse's saddle and adjusted to allow Kharjo room on the saddle. Afterwards, they set off for Dragon Bridge to return to Commander Maro.

* * *

The ride into Dragon Bridge was largely uneventful, save for the fact that Commander Maro was waiting for them outside the Outpost. Alyssa hopped off the horse and approached him. He stood tall, arms crossed, with a look of indifference that changed into mild curiosity as she walked up to him and simply muttered, "It's done."

Commander Maro cocked an eyebrow, "So I've _heard_." She winced when he emphasized that word. "I was told that you got into some trouble for shouting back in Whiterun. I didn't think that they meant Shouting."

"Sir, if you're going to say it, just say it already."

Commander Maro bit his tongue to avoid chastising her on her behavior and instead simply said, "You're the one the Greybeards called for? Dragonborn?" Alyssa nodded, somewhat irritated.

"Yes. I was the one they summoned to High Hrothgar. I have already begun my training with them." She seemed a bit irritated and Commander Maro registered this.

The implications of the discovery seemed to dawn on him after a moment, "If the Dark Brotherhood had approached you beforehand, they could've become unstoppable. I'm glad we have you on our side instead."

"With all due respect, _sir_ , I am not a weapon to be wielding, I'm an individual with free will and the power to make my own path in the world. Far as I'm concerned, you don't _have_ me, I _chose_ to approach you for help."

Even Kharjo seemed to step back a bit and Maro was prompted to raise an eyebrow, "You make yourself clear. I must admit I wasn't expecting you to be so easily angered over something that simple. Would I be overstepping myself to ask why?"

Alyssa's ears flattened against her head and she hung her head, shameful, "I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't thinking clearly. It's been a long day, I've done something I find I'm really uncomfortable with, I haven't had enough sleep and..." Alyssa was surprised to see Maro raise a hand as a subtle command for her to stop talking.

He lowered his hand and gestured to the Outpost, "I understand your concerns. Why don't you go on ahead and sleep here for the night?"

Alyssa's ears perked up along with her eyebrows in surprise, "You would?"

Maro nodded, "Sure. In part, we want to make sure any other assassins don't bother you."

Alyssa grinned, "Thank you sir! And, I apologize again for the outburst, I may have gone a bit overboard."

As she and Kharjo walked into the Outpost, Maro stopped her for a moment, "I accept your apology, but see to it that it doesn't happen again. I'm a forgiving person, but even my patience can wear thin."

Alyssa nodded, "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again." She turned to head into the Outpost, before letting Kharjo enter first and turning to give Maro one last glance, "Thanks again, Commander."

* * *

A/N

→ This is the first a couple quest-line AU's I have planned. The idea behind this comes from the fact that in-game, you can perform one quest for the Penitus Oculatus, while the Dark Brotherhood has a whole quest-line.

→ A bit of characterization for Alyssa is featured here. The reason why I'm trying to characterize her is because I don't want to give off the impression that she represents _the_ Dragonborn, more that she is her own unique character who happens to be in that position.


	4. Penitus Oculatus Questline Pt 2

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. Original content © Me.

* * *

Quest-line AU: Penitus Oculatus

"2: A Precarious Proposition"

* * *

 _5:50 A.M., Fredas, Dragon Bridge_...

When Kharjo awoke, he immediately realized something was wrong. Alyssa's scent was faint, and when he looked around the room of the Outpost, he didn't see her anywhere. Around him, Penitus Oculatus Agents were searching the room and going in and out of the Outpost. Kharjo made the decision to ask Commander Maro about it, "What happened?"

"They got her. I don't know how, but the damn Brotherhood kidnapped her." Maro seemed furious, before rubbing his forehead and grunting in apparent frustration. One of the agents approached Maro, holding a green bottle.

"Sir, I think I might know how they slipped past us. This is a lingering numbness poison. One of the other agents found that someone had lined the rims of numerous Mead bottles with the poison."

Maro put the pieces together, "The men had no stamina. They fell asleep on the job because of it. That must've been how whoever got her slipped past." Maro raised a fist and slammed it on the table, "Son of a bitch!" He turned to the agent, "We have to find her before they do anything to her. Send as many men as we can spare on search parties, search everywhere. Search the Stormcloak encampments or the Thalmor Embassy if you have to!"

A thought occurred to Kharjo, "I thought you wanted to get their attention?"

Maro leveled a glare at him, "Our plan was to lure the Dark Brotherhood out into the open! We got their attention through the most direct method I could think of and they still slipped out from under us, not to mention they might have Whiterun's Thane hostage!"

* * *

"...Khayla?" Alyssa mumbled sleepily, before the events of the previous night caught up to her. "Kharjo? Where are we?" When she received no answer, her eyes snapped open and she jolted upright.

The first thing she was greeted with was a Dunmer garbed in the unfortunately familiar garb of a Dark Brotherhood assassin, with a cowl masking his face, sitting atop an empty shelf in the corner of a room. He greeted her as soon as he saw she was awake, "You're finally awake."

"What? Who are you? Where am I?"

"Relax. You're warm and dry and still breathing. Wish the same could be said for ol' Grelod the Kind, though."

"You know about that?"

"I'd wager everyone from Windhelm to Falkreath or even Markarth knows. Old hag gets butchered in her own Orphanage? Those news tend to spread like a wildfire. Mind you though, I'm not criticizing. I would've done the same. Of course, that Constance person must've been utterly traumatized, but you saved the orphans. However, your actions have caused a bit of a problem for my boss and associates."

"A problem?"

"The one who put the contract on Grelod, an orphan named Aventus Aretino, he was looking for the Dark Brotherhood, which means me and the organization I work for. Grelod was a Dark Brotherhood contract, which you stole, and now you must repay."

"You want me to murder someone else? Who?"

"Well now, if you were to turn around, you'll notice that we have guests. Where they come from isn't important. What matters is that one of them has a contract on their head, and if you figure out who, you can leave this place in exchange for their life being forfeit. What say you?"

Alyssa glanced behind her and saw three captives on their knees with hoods over their faces and hands tied behind their backs. She turned and growled at the Dark Brotherhood assassin, "I'll have no part of this insanity!"

"Too bad, you became involved in this 'insanity' the instant you took Grelod's life. Fate has a way of coming back around with consequences for one's actions. Now, no-one is leaving until someone dies. So make your decision and see me when you're done."

Alyssa got up from the bed, a plan forming in her mind, and went to get an idea of who the hostages were. The three in question were a Nord woman by the name of Alea Quintus, a Khajiit by the name of Vasha, and a Nord mercenary by the name of Fultheim the Fearless. She tried to give off the impression of going along with the assassin's plan by asking each hostage about whether someone would pay to have them assassinated, with mixed results. Once she figured she had played the part long enough, she walked up to the assassin, "I've made my decision."

"And you're gonna delay it by telling me? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalling. So kill someone already."

Alyssa responded with a glare as she felt the power within her build up. The shack seemed to shake as she told him, "You said no-one was leaving until someone died." She inhaled, then Shouted, " _Fus... Ro Dah!_ " The wave of kinetic energy struck the assassin hard enough that he hit his head on the wall behind him with an audible crack. He recoiled as Alyssa drew her blade and readied her shield. The assassin hopped off the shelf and drew an Orcish dagger as Alyssa swung her shield, catching him off-guard and stumbling him momentarily. That moment was all she needed as she charged and ran him through. The blade briefly protruded from his back, black metal stained red, before she pulled the sword out.

In his last moments, the assassin muttered, "Well done..." This confused Alyssa a bit, prompting her to ignore it and instead, she began searching his pockets until she found the key to leave the place. She looked over the suit he wore and began thinking of an idea for something to do with it. She stripped the Shrouded Armor off the Dunmer's body, planning to get it cleaned and refitted for herself.

"Come now my friend. Haven't we played played this game long enough? Cut me loose and we can all go our separate ways." Vasha's voice reminded Alyssa that she wasn't alone in the shack. She turned her attention to the three captives and walked up to Vasha. She pulled the execution hood off his head and tossed it aside. The Khajiit took a deep breath, "Ah, you see? That wasn't so hard, now was it? Let's the two of us forget we ever met, hmm?"

Alyssa thought about it for a moment, "No. How about instead, I let you go on the condition that from now on, you have a debt to me. I'll have a favor, one favor, for you that I can call upon at any time, and in exchange, you go free."

Vasha's tail swished across the floor as he stared in thought. "Deal." She cut loose his bonds, prompting him to stretch his arms, stand up, and stretch a second time. "Ah, sweet freedom. You have my thanks, stranger."

She unlocked the door out of the shack, then returned to cut the other two loose. Alea left the shack in a hurry, pausing only to hurl an insult that passed over Alyssa's head. Fultheim the Fearless opted instead to thank her constantly, then tell her that if she ever needed his help with anything, she could find him in Rorikstead. After they left, she prepared to leave as well, pausing to spare a glance at the dead assassin. He had mentioned someone by the name of 'Aventus Aretino,' and that he had put the contract on Grelod the Kind. Alyssa made a note to learn more about the name and left the shack.

* * *

Once she left the shack, she looked around the area and recognized the large, natural bridge that the Blue Palace of Solitude sat atop of in the distance. The area she was in was a large, swamp-like area that she soon recognized. One of the leads she had to the Gauldur Amulet brought her to a Nordic Ruin not too far from her current location. The Amulet in question now hung around her neck under her Ebony Cuirass. She looked around a bit, trying to find a more specific way across before a familiar voice spoke behind her, "Alyssa?"

She turned around to find a female Khajiit with brown fur, green eyes, and a trio of scars on her nose. Alyssa could barely contain her joy and wrapper her arms around Khayla, "You have no idea how happy I am to see you!" Khayla returned the gesture with a short, quick kiss.

Khayla released Alyssa from the hug, rested her hands on the latter's shoulders and grinned at her, "Actually, I do. As it happened, when we were passing by Dragon Bridge when Kharjo approached Ri'saad. He told us you had disappeared and I asked to help search for you while the caravan set up there." Khayla turned to look at the shack before returning her gaze to Alyssa, "When I heard the Shouting, I just knew it had to be you and came as quickly as I could."

Alyssa let out a small laugh and wiped the joyful tears from her eyes, "I'm glad you did." She hugged Khayla again, unable to stop the tears from falling. She wanted to say something, but just couldn't find the words in her sore throat.

Khayla decided to break up the hug and told her, "Ri'saad also wanted me to thank you for the horse. It makes getting our supplies around much easier."

Alyssa chuckled a bit, "Come on, let's head back to Dragon Bridge. We need to make sure Kharjo's alright and I have to report this to Maro." Khayla nodded and took Alyssa's hand in hers as the duo began the walk to Dragon Bridge.

* * *

Commander Maro leaned against the table, looking at the drawn up Map of Skyrim. Kharjo sat in one corner of the room while Gaius Maro, Commander Maro's son, sat in the opposite corner and next to a Warrior who was standing with his arms crossed. "Have any of the searches reported back yet?" Maro decided to ask the Warrior.

The Warrior shook his head, "It's only been a few hours, sir."

Maro growled, "The Reach party should have been back by now. Or at the very least, the Hjaalmarch party."

Gaius decided to speak, "If I may, you seem a bit overly concerned about this person. May I ask why?"

Maro looked up from the map and at his son, "Besides being a Thane in Whiterun, she's agreed to help us with taking down the Dark Brotherhood. Not to mention she's the Dragonborn, and if she dies..." Maro trailed off, letting the silence that followed finish his sentence.

Kharjo stood up from his seat, "She has done right by me, I do not intend to let her die alone or at the hands of the Dark Brotherhood. I'm going to find her if I have to go to Oblivion and back."

"It's fine, Kharjo. No need to go to Oblivion and back, though I'm flattered that you would." The voice in the doorway surprised everyone as Alyssa walked into the Outpost and set a pile of black and red (and slightly bloody) cloth on the table. "You were right. Killing Grelod got their attention. One of the assassins tried to induct me into the group. This was my answer." She gestured to the stained attire for emphasis.

A hand on her shoulder startled her and she turned to see Kharjo. The Khajiit was grinning, "Khajiit feels a warmness at seeing you return alive." Alyssa grinned back.

She turned back to Maro when he began speaking, "This might actually work to our advantage. We've spent so long trying to replicate the fabric and the enchantments that they use in their outfits, and you've not only come back alive, but dropped exactly what we needed right onto our laps." Maro looked up to her, "Since you've proven already that you aren't to be trifled with, how would you feel about bringing the fight to the Dark Brotherhood?"

Alyssa was intrigued, "What did you have in mind?"

Maro gestured to the Shrouded Armor on the table, "If you visit Beirand in Solitude, he might be able to not only clean this armor off, but he might be able to refit it to your proportions. We could pass you off as a member of the Dark Brotherhood and fool them into thinking that you took up on the offer." At the mention of it, Alyssa's chest began hurting and she realized that she still had yet to get her Ebony Cuirass refitted as it was. She agreed to get the armor refitted and took it with her, gesturing for Kharjo to follow her.

* * *

 _2:16 P.M., Fredas, Solitude_...

Beirand was at his forge, working by himself and wholly absorbed in his work that he didn't notice a familiar face coming up the walkway to his forge. It wasn't until he heard an admiring whistle following a compliment, "I don't think I've seen you work so hard at your forge before. Busy day?"

Beirand smiled, "Well, if it isn't the Legion's latest recruit. Tell me, how goes the war?"

Alyssa set the Shrouded Cuirass and her Ebony Cuirass down on the table, having donned a set of blacksmith robes a little while beforehand. She paused for a moment, deep in thought before quietly answering, "Ulfric's dead. The only remnants of his rebellion are the radical soldiers still in the camps." She gestured to the cuirasses, "However, something more important has come up at the moment."

Beirand paused his work to take a look at the cuirasses. His eyes were drawn to the hand-print on the leathery one, "The Dark Brotherhood? What's going on?"

She gestured to a duo of soldiers as they walked through the arch into the Legion's training grounds, "The Penitus Oculatus wants my help in fighting the Dark Brotherhood." She gestured to her Ebony Cuirass, "I'm also looking to get this refitted as well."

Beirand took note of the demands, "Fighting a war on two fronts I've heard of. Fighting two wars at once? And with the Dark Brotherhood! I think you're crazy, but you're my favorite customer, so I'll go along. How did you want that armor refitted?"

Alyssa held up the Ebony Cuirass, "I'd like you to refit this so that it feels less like I have a knife in my chest all the time." She then held up the Shrouded Cuirass and Greaves, "And I need you to refit these more to suit my form." Beirand nodded and took the assorted clothings in one hand.

He gestured to the inside of his shop, "I'll need to get your measurements though." Alyssa nodded and followed him into the shop, asking Kharjo to stick around right outside the shop.

* * *

 _6:49 P.M., Fredas, Dragon Bridge_...

Commander Maro looked up from the map when he heard the door open. In walked Alyssa and Kharjo. "Well? Did you get it refitted?"

Alyssa nodded, "There was a slight problem." She held up the Shrouded Cuirass. It took only one glimpse for Maro to realize what was wrong. The 'Hand of Mephala' that the original Cuirass had on its midriff, that the group used as their symbol for nearly everything, wasn't present.

Maro sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, "By the Eight, I hope they don't notice." He looked down at the map, then back up to Alyssa, "Well, are you ready for your next assignment?" Alyssa nodded, prompting him to point toward a small red flag near the shield for Falkreath, "This is where we've determined the location of their Sanctuary to be. You are to sneak into the Brotherhood and try to determine who their next target is. If we can get our hands on that information, we can try to catch them off-guard again and this time put a stop to their terror."

Alyssa nodded. Her ears twitched and she realized something important, "I'm going to be wearing the Shrouded Armor. I'm going to look exactly like a Dark Brotherhood Assassin. How am I going to convince any Penitus Oculatus agents I encounter while wearing it that I'm on their side?"

Maro looked down at the map, "I've thought about that and I've shared a code-phrase with them. I'm going to give it to you as well. The agents should know what you look like, but if they aren't certain, they are required to ask, 'Who is the secret Mad dancer?' The answer to the question is 'Ascending Firebird.' Every agent should know about your status as a spy in the Brotherhood within the next two days." Maro looked up at her, a serious look in his eyes, "Anyone who wears our armor and attacks you without asking that exact question is to be considered either turncoat or a counterspy. If you're not certain, ask them 'When is cabbage cheesy?' and if they answer, '3:25,' they are trustworthy. The safety of Skyrim rests in our hands, so watch yourself in there."

Alyssa saluted Commander Maro, then left for the Falkreath Sanctuary.

* * *

A/N

→ Part 2 of the Penitus Oculatus quest-line AU. I decided to switch out Astrid for a generic assassin (hence the differing dialogue) in part to stay true to the Dark Brotherhood quest-line. My idea for the former quest-line is that it runs alongside the latter quest-line, killing Astrid so early in the Penitus Oculatus quest-line felt somewhat cheap, like getting cheated out of the main conflict of the story. However, I still wanted a scenario where the Dragonborn still rejects the offer to join. As a bonus, I gave the captives a bit more importance which _will_ be capitalized on eventually (as in Fultheim the Fearless as a possible follower and Vasha returning because of that favor).

→ A personal opinion that I've seen expressed by some players is the disappointment at not having Khajiits be eligible for marriage. This is most likely my jade-colored glasses, but it seems like a portion of these opinions exist solely to focus on Kharjo and J'zargo. I have no problem with either character, I like having them as followers (the rare times I do have a follower in-game), but I wanted to focus more on a relationship between a Khajiit Dovahkiin and one of the other named Khajiits. This does have plot significance, so don't worry.

→ Kudos to RisingPhoenix56 for pointing out a dialogue error in previous chapters.


	5. Penitus Oculatus Questline Pt 3

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. Original Content © Me.

* * *

Quest-line AU: Penitus Oculatus

"3: The Black Door"

* * *

 _9:20 A.M., Loredas, Falkreath Province_...

Kharjo had elected to stay behind once again, in part because Commander Maro wanted this to be a solo mission for Alyssa. She could see his reasoning, as much as she didn't like it. When one ventures into a place filled to the brim with assassins that could and probably would gut her like a fish, she would've appreciated the extra set of eyes. At the very least, the Penitus Oculatus were kind enough to lend her a horse so the journey to the Falkreath Sanctuary wouldn't be quite as long or stressful. Surprisingly enough, the leathery suit she now wore was more comfortable than the Ebony Armor she had left with them.

She impulsively glanced upward. Her ears perked upward, picking up the ambient sounds of nature around her. She sighed in relief when none of those sounds was a metallic roar or the flapping of bat-like wings. She thought briefly about Delphine, the individual who had led her on a wild-goose chase across Skyrim before showing her the truth about the return of the Dragons. The image that had left in her head still remained, and she knew that she'd have to deal with that black dragon eventually. Delphine was following up on a lead and had promised to write back to her when she had something, which left Alyssa free to wander, and at the moment, fight the Dark Brotherhood.

This gave her the time to meditate on what had brought her all the way from Elsweyr to Skyrim. It was her mother and stepfather. When she was a young kitten, her Khajiit mother had taught her all she knew about stealth, light armors, and speechcraft, while her Nord stepfather had taught her all he knew about one-handed swords, especially dual-wielding. Those skills, she found herself using frequently, and picking up on new skills along the way, such as her newfound affinity for Restoration magic. In the end, she still had them to thank for getting her started on her training. But despite all she had learned, young Alyssa hadn't been prepared for the day she woke up, and neither her mother nor her stepfather were in the house, and realizing that they'd never return.

Alyssa shook her head in an attempt to refocus her attention. She rubbed her right eye, wiping away the tears. Ever since getting out of the orphanage she ended up in due to their disappearance, she had begun a personal investigation into their disappearance, with a recent lead bringing her here, to Skyrim. Her ears perked up when she heard a far off roar. She looked up to the skies, hoping she wouldn't see anything that wasn't normally up there. There was a tense moment as the horse stopped without her willing it. She waited, feeling her muscles tighten in apprehension. Beyond the noises she normally heard in a forest, she heard only silence. She wondered if she was imagining the roar, only to hear it again, farther away this time. She felt an immediate rush of fear through her body, and yet, she found a small part of her, a tiny part of her mind, was screaming at her to find the Dragon, and prove herself stronger than it, as if the roars were some sort of challenge. When she didn't hear the roars again, she got her horse moving again, toward the Falkreath Sanctuary.

Eventually, she came across an opening in the forest that held what she realized was the black pond that one of the locals in Falkreath had mentioned. She recalled having actually fallen asleep on her horse, and waking up just outside of Falkreath to a guard asking about a dog, which led her to ask one of the locals about it, as well as anything related to possible activities of the Dark Brotherhood, before spending the night at the inn. That was where she'd learned of the black pond, a seemingly benign pond with an unnatural darkness within it. She dismounted her own horse and dropped onto all fours, quietly creeping toward the pond, until she reached a small outcropping overlooking the pond. It was an eerie sight that put her on edge. The locals had said that it wasn't very deep, knee deep at its lowest, but one local had mentioned that it felt as though something was watching him from an unfathomably deep coldness, whatever that meant. Now that she saw the pond for herself, she felt as though it hid an abyss that stared back at her. Even the part of her mind that one of the Greybeards, Arngeir, had told her was the Draconic aspect of her mind, an effect of being Dragonborn, felt an out-of-place fear at seeing the pond. She realized that part of this fear seemed to be from the now obvious heavy breathing she could hear right underneath her.

Trying to tear her thoughts away from the pond and the unnerving thoughts it brought, she realized someone was coming and crouched lower to the ground. She could barely see what looked like an Argonian tiptoeing toward the source of the breathing. She heard a raspy whisper ask, " _What... is the music of life_?"

The Argonian answered in a low voice, "Silence, my brother."

The rasping whisper responded, prompting Alyssa to realize that the exchange was a code, " _Welcome home_." She heard a door open and dared to look over the outcropping, seeing the Argonian walk through a black door emblazoned with a large, black skull and the black handprint she had come to know as the calling card of the Dark Brotherhood.

She realized that the code was how she could get in, so she made the decision to try it. She slipped down and hill and, for reasons uncertain, skirted around the black pond, and to the black door. She was uncertain of how to get its attention, so she raised her hand to knock when it spoke, causing her to jump, " _What... is the music of life_?"

Alyssa cleared her throat, "Silence, my brother." Quietly, she was begging for her guess to be correct.

The Black Door was silent for a moment before opening and whispering, " _Welcome home_." She walked through the open door, bracing herself for anything on the other side of the door. After she took a few steps into the Sanctuary, the door slammed shut behind her. She jumped, left hand flying toward and drawing the Ebony Dagger she had brought as her only weapon. There was no-one behind her, leaving her to wonder just what had shut the door.

Deeper into the Sanctuary, she found the place still had a few lit torches, meaning people had used it very recently. She wandered down the stairs and into a decent-sized room. On the shelves were a few outfits with the telltale glows of enchantments. There was a soul gem, some alchemy ingredients, and a book with the sign for the magic school of Alteration on the cover, and above it was the title of the book, 'Sithis.' She heard someone clearing their throat and looked behind her. Before her, leaning against a wall leading to a short stairway, was a Nord woman wearing the signature Shrouded armor of the organization, minus the cowl. A quick glance told her that the Nord's armor, much like her own, seemed to lack the "Hand of Mephala" print, which put her at a slight ease. Alyssa walked up to the Nord, who's eyes seemed to hold a distant coldness and calculation to them. She felt a distinct unease as the Nord introduced herself as Astrid, the leader of the Dark Brotherhood.

"I see that you've managed to find your way here. So, welcome to the Family." Alyssa remained silent, uncertain of how to respond. This prompted Astrid to continue, "This is the Sanctuary. You won't find a safer place in all of Skyrim. Here, you will begin your new life as a member of the Dark Brotherhood." She took Alyssa's continued silence with interest, "Not much to say? I suppose you're waiting for some big contract. We don't have anything like that right now, but I would suggest that you speak with Nazir. He might have some smaller contracts to tide you over in the meantime."

Alyssa began walking down the set of stairs when Astrid's voice stopped her, "One more thing." She met Astrid's gaze again as she spoke, "Since it seems that you've already got what you need for your... endeavors, I feel the need to ask about the one I sent to bring you home. So tell me, what became of Brelvus?"

Alyssa realized that there was no chance she could remain silent and let it slide. She thought for a moment to get a believable story before answering, "We were accosted by a Dragon. We injured it and sent it fleeing, but the Dragon's Frost Breath and its jaws fatally injured Brelvus during the fight. In his last moments, he told me the code to enter the Sanctuary and gave me his own uniform. I paid a large sum of money to one blacksmith in the smaller villages for his silence in order to get it refitted and repaired." She seriously hoped that she had sounded convincing, because if the past had told her anything, lying was never her strongest suit.

Astrid seemed to buy it however, "I understand. The return of these dragons is a double-edged sword however. Those who spend their time focused on the dragons will never expect a dagger at the throat." She waved her hand, gesturing for Alyssa to leave.

She was more than happy to get away from the leader of the Dark Brotherhood, finding her to be rather unnerving. She almost tripped on the stairs as she found herself in a larger room of the Sanctuary. Higher on one of the walls, she could see a stained glass window with a skull pictured on it. It wasn't long into the place that she heard a familiar sound. The sound was of a rushing wind, carrying the voices of untold heroes, singing praise to the Dragonborn. She looked around and noticed a familiar structure. She heard the whisper of a Word, and on the wall below the stained glass window, she saw its Echo. This word, she realized was the third word in a Shout that she already partially knew, courtesy of the Dragon Soul that she learned the meaning of the Words from, _Aus_. A word that, would've normally felt hollow and empty to her early days in Skyrim, meant 'suffer' to her with her understanding of Dovahzul. She found it oddly ironic that not only would she find a Word Wall here, but it was the final word for her Death Mark, a Shout she learned that could weaken her foes in various ways, opening scars, rusting metals, worsening diseases, dulling blades and senses alike, and even ruining the leather bindings in most armors.

She blinked when she realized she wasn't the only person in the room. She realized there were other assassins in the room, gathered in a circle and bragging to each other about their latest contracts. She got over the numbness in her various senses that always seemed to occur when she learned a new Word and hung around outside the circle as one of the assassins, who one of the others had called 'Arnbjorn,' got defensive over something the young girl (Alyssa was surprised to see a child here of all places) had said about him, "I am not cute, and he wasn't a merchant. He was a Khajiit Monk, a master of the Whispering Fang style. But now he's dead, and I have a new loincloth."

Something about what Arnbjorn said brought back something Alyssa's mother had once told her about her father, that he was a devoted follower of Khenarthi, and master of a style of unarmed combat known as the Whispering Fang style, which involved the usage of a Khajiit's natural blades, the claws and fangs, alongside complex martial arts maneuvers for quick strikes and movements. She recalled that he and S'Raza, her mother, had been separated by a group of bandits before Alyssa was born, and before she ended up traveling with Markard Twin-Swords, Alyssa's stepfather. This made Alyssa want to look into Arnbjorn when she had the time. Just when it seemed that they were wrapping up their conversation, Alyssa decided to make herself known. She slipped behind one of the assassins, a Redguard wearing something other than the Shrouded Armor or the Shrouded Robes, and cleared her throat. Nazir turned around while the other assassins went off on their own, "So, you must be the new member of our dwindling, dysfunctional family."

Alyssa was tempted to stay quiet, but instead asked, "Is there anything to be done right now?"

Nazir nodded, "There are a few lingering contracts. There'll always be more contracts to do. Here, take your pick." He held up three slips of paper.

Alyssa did her best to kindly turn down the contracts, "Sorry, I meant around the Sanctuary."

Nazir shrugged and pocketed the contracts, "You could get to know the rest of the Family, starting with me. I normally handle the contracts that come in, checking in and seeing who wants to do the contracts." He paused for a moment before gesturing to the contracts in his robe, "I'm going to assign these to you. When you're ready, come and see me about them. Now go meet the others."

Alyssa felt a bit odd about the thought of having contracts to kill under her name, and ended up looking over her shoulder as she walked past Nazir to meet the others. She wandered through the Sanctuary, before running into a Dunmer garbed in Shrouded Robes. She tried to put on a friendly demeanor, "Hello."

The Dunmer grinned at her, "Death is but the time to sleep forever, in the Void." Alyssa's eyes widened at the way she made such a topic sound so casual. She forced a smile in return and asked the Dunmer, who introduced herself as Gabriella, about herself, "What a curious question. Well, I enjoy moonlit nights, taking long walks on the beach, knitting, and unicorns." At the answer, Alyssa felt her tail twitch in agitation and the mixed signals she was getting. Gabriella continued, "In fact, I once took a seaside stroll, on a moonlit night, and discovered a unicorn... which I proceeded to stab in the throat with a crochet needle." Alyssa raised a confused eyebrow at the statement, to which Gabriella finished, "I'm a woman of simple, yet refined tastes."

Gabriella took the chance to ask the Khajiit about herself, prompting Alyssa to think for a bit. She realized that if she gave away the wrong information, she could blow her cover, "I... I've always been a fan of... Destruction magic." _Well that's a lie_ , she thought as she continued, "I've also been fond of Warhammers. There's something satisfying about crushing your opponent's skull while burning them to a crisp with a fire Enchantment." _And there's the other lie_ , Alyssa quietly hoped that what she had said was believable.

Gabriella smiled, "I think you might get along well with Festus Krex and Arnbjorn."

"How so?"

"Festus knows much about magic, having understood a fair amount back when he was a mere student at the College of Winterhold. He has shown quite the aptitude for using it on contracts." Mention of the college briefly distracted Alyssa. She had visited the College a few times, mostly to better train herself in the art of Restoration. Faralda may not have been open to a Khajiit clad in (at the time) Steel Plate Armor asking for such, but was surprisingly willing to let the Dragonborn in. She briefly felt the ghost of a sore throat and brought her attention back to Gabriella as she continued, "...our Forgemaster. He's also quite a beast."

Alyssa didn't conceal her surprise at the statement, "Excuse me?"

"He's a former Companion, an ex-member of the Circle, and a Werewolf. I was impressed the first time I saw him tear apart a target for a contract, and can see why Astrid married him."

"He's married? To Astrid?" Alyssa paused when Gabriella's statements finally sunk in, "Wait, he's a Werewolf?!"

Gabriella only smiled at her, "Yes. If you had been paying attention, this wouldn't be a shock."

"Humblest apologies."

The Dunmer shook her head, "Do not trouble yourself over that. I was much like you when I first joined, easily distracted and easily impressed." She turned to walk away, sparing a glance to Alyssa, "I must be leaving now."

Alyssa nodded, "Places to go, sights to see, people to kill?"

Gabriella chuckled, "You'll fit in just fine."

* * *

Wandering around the Sanctuary a bit more led Alyssa to the closest thing to a living room in the Sanctuary. There was the Argonian from earlier, the child, and an older Nord wearing similar Shrouded Robes, without a hood. There was a bookshelf and a table next to it. The room sat next to a small cavern covered in thick webbing. She saw movement and realized that there was a Frostbite Spider inhabiting the cavern. Alyssa was initially surprised that they were doing nothing about the creature, until she determined that it must've been tamed. She still didn't want anything to do with it. Alyssa hung out near the edge of the group, in the doorway, debating on how to talk to them. The Argonian noticed her presence and spoke out to her, "There's no need to hide. Come and join our conversation." At his prompting, Alyssa walked into the room and took up residence on one of the various seats scattered around the Sanctuary. Her eyes kept darting back to the Frostbite Spider in the neighboring room, expecting it to leap at her at any moment.

"You must be that new recruit that Nazir had mentioned." The Argonian commented as the old man got up and left, grumbling to himself about some other matter.

Alyssa pulled down the hood on her Shrouded Cowl and remarked, "Is it really that obvious?"

"Unsurprisingly, yes. Of course, we were all new here at one point. Even our young, little Babette here was new at some point."

"Speak for yourself, Veezara. Young as I may look and sound, I am still older than you by many decades. Being bitten by a vampire when you're ten will do that to a girl."

"...Werewolves, Vampires, children, Mages, child Vampires, and Frostbite Spiders. Is there anyone you _don't_ accept here in the Dark Brotherhood?" Alyssa commented on the colorful cast of characters she now knew of.

'Veezara' chuckled, "That's an interesting question. Seeing as the Dark Brotherhood's specialty is assassinations, we're very open to whatever methods you prefer for getting the job done. In-fact, before you spoke to Nazir, we were sharing a few stories about the methods we've used. Babette had spoken of using her childish appearance and innocent masquerade to kill a molester, and Arnbjorn had spoken of ripping apart a Khajiit monk in his Beast Form."

At the mention of Arnbjorn, Alyssa inclined herself to ask, "Speaking of, would I be overstepping if I asked about that?"

Veezara shrugged, "Perhaps you would have better luck asking Arnbjorn himself about it, but I'm not one to pry unless he's willing to talk." Satisfied with that answer, Alyssa finally gave in and asked about the Frostbite Spider, "Ah, that would be Lis, Gabriella's pet. She's friendly for the most part, as long as you don't try anything. The last person who did... well, she ate him." Alyssa shuddered at the statement, not wanting to think about herself on the wrong side of those venomous fangs. Trying to distract herself from the nightmares she was bound to have, she inquired about where she'd be sleeping, if she were to live here. "Tired already? I suppose that's no surprise, seeing as how running from the guards and hiding from dragons would do that to a person." He gestured to the series of rooms behind him, "There are a couple spare beds you can use. Nice and private if that is your desire."

Alyssa wasn't sure how to take that last comment, so she got up and left the room, not wanting to ask for directions and instead find the beds by herself. The longer that she was in this Sanctuary, the more and more uncomfortable she felt, and when she found one of the empty beds, she couldn't stop shivering. She wasn't certain if it was the cold that Nordic tombs frequently had, or if it was her own sudden fear that something might happen while she was asleep. She sat down on the bed and pondered on what to do. She wanted to speak with Arnbjorn, or investigate his quarters for information on the Khajiit Monk he had mentioned. She also wanted to rest, or at least stay away from the other assassins in the meantime. She finally made a decision, a quick nap and then she'd ask Arnbjorn about the Monk.

* * *

When she opened her eyes, she was curled up in a familiar bed, in a familiar house. She recognized it as Breezehome, and realized that there was someone next to her, who stirred as well. A knock on the door to her room issued, followed by Lydia's voice, "My Thane? It's mid-morning and you haven't gotten up yet. Is everything alright?"

Alyssa replied, "Yes Lydia, just overslept."

She looked to her side and to the brown-furred Khajiit, who was looking at her with a content grin, "Khajiit feels warmth from your presence."

Alyssa positioned herself over Khayla and nuzzled her neck, "I feel warmth from your presence as well." She moved aside as Khayla got into an upright position, then reached around her to embrace her, one hand wandering up to her chest. The moment her hand made contact, Khayla suddenly screamed, as if in pain. Alyssa jerked her hand back and Khayla stopped, gasping for a moment before falling back onto the bed, coughing up blood. Alyssa realized with horror that a gaping wound had appeared in her chest, and her heart was in Alyssa's hand, claws puncturing the delicate flesh. She tried to let go of the heart, only for it to burst into flames instead as her Magicka seemed to act on its own accord, forming a Destruction Spell that burned her own hand as well. She grabbed her burned hand and yelled out for a brief moment, squinting her eyes shut from the pain.

When it suddenly disappeared, Alyssa opened her eyes and saw that she was alone in the bedroom. There was no blood, Khayla wasn't present, and the fur around her right hand was still present. She quickly got out of the bed when Lydia knocked and asked, "My Thane? Is everything alright?"

She opened the door to find Lydia standing there, still normal. In an act of desperation, she wrapped her arms around Lydia, "I'm fine... I'm..." She paused when she heard a slick, wet sound followed by gagging and coughing. She let go of Lydia and saw a black blade not unlike an Akaviri Katana sticking out of her back, with the tip of the blade protruding from her abdomen. "Oh gods, no..."

Her voice failed her as Lydia fell to her knees, her final words being a tear-stricken "Why?" She fell over, dead, and Alyssa tried to scream, but the only sounds out of her mouth were the faintest traces of a voice, as if something had silenced her.

She then heard the voice of another, a hoarse and vile whisper, "You have fallen astray, been led to believe that we are your enemy. Do not let these deceivers fool you, for your duty is to your Family, to protect it and carry out my will and the will of your Dread Father." Alyssa tried to block out the whispers, pressing her hands against her head in vain as they continued, "Do not deny the truth. You are to be my Listener. I shall be arriving at the Sanctuary soon. My Keeper, poor, dear Cicero, will need time to settle in, and once he has, tell him 'Darkness rises when silence dies.' Until then, go and see Amaund Motierre in Volunruud. He has performed the Black Sacrament."

* * *

"Gah!" As soon as she felt sensation return to her body, Alyssa scrambled into an upright position, Ebony Dagger in hand. She desperately wished she had a better weapon to use instead of a simple dagger. She briefly thought about a Bound Sword, then remembered that she only knew two Conjuration spells, and neither one was a weapon or a summon. She decided against it, seeing as she wasn't in any immediate danger. She calmed herself down and managed to loosen her grip on her dagger enough to sheath it. She soon heard a bit of commotion from the room in the Sanctuary with the Word Wall. She got out of the bed, silently hoping that it wasn't related to the nightmares she had. As she made her way there, she realized that this was the first time she had a nightmare that wasn't about Helgen, or about Hircine's Hunting Grounds. The latter was a bit recent, and she wasn't certain why she was having those nightmares.

When she arrived, she saw a man dressed in a jester's outfit standing in front of a crate. She listened in on the conversation, picking up bits and pieces about the jester's arrival, such as his odd mannerisms, and eventually his name. She suddenly realized that Cicero was not just a figment of her imagination, which meant that whatever was speaking to her in that dream wasn't just a nightmarish voice. Feeling rather sick all of the sudden, she decided that she couldn't do this anymore. Doing her best to look calm and collected, she walked past the group, and up the stairs on her way out. She was briefly stopped by Astrid, who deliberately blocked the entrance and asked, "Going somewhere?"

Alyssa felt like she was about to lose it as she did her best to quietly answer, "Yes, I have some personal business to attend to."

"Cicero's here, and he claims that the Night Mother is here with him. You should be down with the rest of the group, gawking over his arrival."

"This can't wait. Getting to meet the new face can."

Astrid seemed to sneer a bit, "I'm certain that Khayla's wellbeing can wait a few more hours, Thane of Whiterun."

Alyssa's eyes widened a bit and she felt her hand reaching for her dagger. "How did you know?"

"Jarl Balgruuf announces Skyrim's first Khajiit Thane? The same one who's been a Dark Brotherhood contract since she joined the Imperial Legion? The same Khajiit who answered the Greybeards when they called for the Dragonborn? Who coincidentally looks like the most recent addition to our Family? Who was also seen talking to the Penitus Oculatus a couple days ago? The pieces weren't hard to put together, traitor." Astrid stepped out of the doorway, "I'll give you a head start, since this is your first time doing this, but you better be watch yourself, because your contract is still open, and I'll make sure that it hurts before you die."

Alyssa stalked past her, then turned around to keep an eye on her to ensure she wouldn't be stabbed in the back. At the top of the stairs, she spoke back to Astrid, "You so much as lay a single finger on Khayla, and I'll make any punishment that Sithis could give you seem like child's play."

Astrid responded with a hint of a smirk, "We'll see."

As soon as she stepped out of the Sanctuary, Alyssa knew something was very wrong. The fact that her horse now lay dead, next to the black puddle was saying something. Realizing that she could have the assassins after her at any moment, she began to panic, having few options at this point. On instinct, she yelled out, " _Wuld nah kest!_ " Her Voice carried her far from the door and the blackened waters, but as soon as her feet touched solid ground, she broke into a mad sprint for Falkreath, hoping to take the next carriage to Solitude. She now had vital information regarding her mission, and a warning that she'd been discovered.

* * *

 _10:52 P.M., Dragon Bridge_...

The Spellsword on duty briefly shook himself awake, silently pleading to the Divines to let his shift be over soon. He almost nodded off a second time when he saw someone heading up the road toward the Outpost. Drawing his sword and readying a Flame spell in his left hand, he approached the figure, "Who goes there?" He saw the figure pull down her cowl, revealing a familiar Khajiit woman.

The Spellsword was surprised to see her back so soon, and even more so to hear her say, "I need to speak with Commander Maro immediately!"

* * *

A/N

→ Shout-out to RisingPhoenix56 once again for their feedback. I hope I managed to flesh out the main character a bit based on the advice.

→ On that note, I realize that I had her wearing Ebony Armor, despite saying that she trained in the usage of light armor, which Ebony isn't. I realize that it may seem a bit counterproductive to wear armor one can't get the most protection out of, but I like to think that she was trying something new, like the Restoration magic mentioned earlier.

→ Related to the nightmares: There's some foreshadowing when the subject comes up, related to a later plot. Yes, the Night Mother still chooses her to be Listener, but she's not going to Listen this time. Normally, when she does have nightmares, it's about Helgen and the attack that destroyed it.


	6. Penitus Oculatus Questline Pt 4

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. Original Content © Me.

* * *

Quest-line AU: Penitus Oculatus

"4: Misdirection"

* * *

→ Bit of warning, some gore and some nudity in this chapter (Then again, this is _Skyrim_ , kinda hard to avoid the two at some level). Nothing explicit, or I would've changed the content rating by now.

* * *

 _11:15 P.M., Morndas, Penitus Oculatus Outpost_...

Commander Maro wasn't the only one trying to stifle a yawn in light of recent events. Many of the soldiers, and even their esteemed Khajiit guest, had expressed a lack of excitement about the horrendous hour at which Alyssa had decided to wake them up. She openly admitted to wanting to sleep as well (having been on the run for the better part of a day and a half), but wanted them to know first and foremost what she knew.

"So, besides the fact that the Night Mother, which a good lot of us thought was a myth, is in their Sanctuary now, and they figured out that you're a spy for our side, what else do you know?" Commander Maro had to stifle yet another yawn as Alyssa leaned over the table.

She looked up at him, "What do you know about Amaund Motierre?"

Maro's eyes widened suddenly, "That's a very powerful bloodline. How do you know of it?"

Alyssa thought about the nightmare she'd had the night before she was ousted as a spy, and how the Night Mother had possibly spoken to her. She declined to share that, "He's got a contract with the Dark Brotherhood. They're meeting him in Volunruud."

Commander Maro seemed to recognize the name, "Resting place of Kvenel the Tongue..." He turned to her, "I want you to go and meet this Motierre before the rest of the organization does. See what he wants, then bring me the information." He glanced at Kharjo when he yawned, then added, "After we get some sleep. My advice? Sleep here tonight. I don't want to risk another incident with the Four Shields Inn. We're already on questionable terms with them after you were abducted the first time."

Alyssa nodded, thanking the Commander for his generosity, then after a brief fuss with Kharjo, managed to get a bedroll so that he could have the bed, despite his insistence that she take the bed.

* * *

After a night full of restless fits, Alyssa felt as though the morning had arrived too soon when Kharjo gently shook her awake. She forced herself into an upright position and tried to shake herself awake. She managed to open her eyes and saw Kharjo offering her a small, green potion bottle. Taking it from him, she sipped it down, then nearly fell back onto the bedroll when the caravaner caught her and steadied her. The potion's effects were probably going to take some time to take effect, which would give everyone time they needed to prepare for the next phase of their plan. Kharjo handed her the Ebony Sword that she'd left with him, which she took without question.

After Alyssa was more properly awake and aware, she went over the details with Commander Maro once again, who had developed a bit of a plan based on his knowledge of the Motierre name. "After you went to sleep, I arranged to have my contacts bring any information on the Motierres that I could. We've done some digging and managed to learn that the Motierres have had contact with the Dark Brotherhood before." Any remaining tiredness that Alyssa had was gone the moment he said that. Seeing that he had her attention, he continued, "During the Third Era, when the Oblivion Crisis was in full swing, the Dark Brotherhood had supposedly assassinated Francois Motierre. It wasn't until later that it was discovered that he had enlisted the Dark Brotherhood to fake his own death."

Alyssa rubbed her chin in thought, "Don't suppose we could try and guess Amaund's motive for contacting the Dark Brotherhood?"

"I'd wager that he's making a move against a rival, most likely someone of equal or higher standing in political power. Unless someone's making a move against him."

Alyssa looked up at him, "But, why contact the Dark Brotherhood if he's already a target?"

"They faked a death once, who's to say that they couldn't do it again? Or haven't done it already for that matter?"

Alyssa thought about it. She sighed when she came to a conclusion, "The only way we can figure out his motive for certain would be to play the part. It means..." She shivered a bit, feeling as though icy cold tendrils were burrowing into her mind. She was certain that whatever had spoken to her in that dream, it had to be at least watching her. She was certain that doing its bidding would bring her closer to it, which made her uneasy. "It means I'm going to have to do this alone."

Commander Maro gave her a reassuring smile, "Not quite. I'll lead a small group to cover you while you're in Volunruud. We'll arrest Motierre once he leaves the tomb and defend you against any assassins the Dark Brotherhood might send." His smile faltered slightly, "That said, I'd like you to go ahead of us. On the off-chance that the Dark Brotherhood is already there, we can't exactly have you show up stealthily while being guarded by five or six heavily armed Penitus Oculatus Agents wearing clunky steel armor. However, if they aren't there, we'd like you to get to Amaund first, get his motive and confession, then incapacitate him if possible, but don't kill him."

Alyssa nodded, then turned to Kharjo, "Looks like you'll be sitting this one out again."

Kharjo's tail swished in what seemed like agitation, "I know I've said this before, but a life is very hard to replace. Come back safely."

Alyssa turned to leave, then paused and turned to Kharjo again, "Send word to Ri'saad, tell him I'd like Khayla to work with you, watch her back and she'll watch yours. Follow Maro's squad. Is that alright with you?"

Kharjo grinned a bit, "Khajiit will follow."

Alyssa smiled, "Good..." She paused a bit, knowing the impending task that awaited her the instant she stepped out those doors. Nonetheless, she felt the need to say, "I'll be back."

* * *

Volunruud was located in The Pale, which put it halfway across Skyrim, and Alyssa knew she was in for a long trek there. She had spoken to Commander Maro, he mentioned something about a request to the College of Winterhold for some spell or another for faster traveling, but she would have to go on foot, since the stable-manager was still furious with the Penitus Oculatus for getting the last horse he lent them killed. In the end, the simplest she understood was that she was walking all the way there, so he gave her a knapsack and a bedroll in the event that she needed to rest. The knapsack was fairly heavy, and when she had looked inside it, she found a couple healing potions, some food, flint, and a book, ' _Dwemer Inquiries Vol I_ ,' which she'd never heard of before now.

She checked her map, looking at the markings that showed where she was heading. Volunruud was near Dawnstar, she figured that if all went well with Motierre, she could rest at the inn there and recover her strength. At the rate she was walking, she might, just might be able to make it to Dawnstar before sundown, seeing as she left Dragon Bridge rather early. The loneliness gave her time to think, though. Her thoughts kept coming back to her conversation with Astrid, and to Khayla. She worried about what might happen to Khayla, even though she knew the Khajiit was more than capable of defending herself. It was one thing to fend off a bandit or the occasional Saber Cat, and quite another to go up against a Dark Brotherhood assassin, even a novice with an iron dagger and nothing else. She then found herself thinking about her Housecarls. She wondered if she was putting them in danger by not being there. She knew she couldn't be everywhere, and though the Housecarls devoted themselves to protecting her, she felt more like she should be protecting them in this situation. _Perhaps I should sell_... she started to think, before shaking her head to clear the thoughts out of her mind. She had a job to do, and if she did it right, she wouldn't need to worry about the safety of the people she cared for.

A cold, harsh whisper began filling the silence, " _Why do you fight your destiny, Listener? You would willingly disobey me? Consort with those foolish warriors?_ _You fight against me as if I'm the enemy. I am not your enemy, it is Maro. Return to Dragon Bridge and rid us of his life, and Sithis may spare you his wrath._ "

Alyssa pressed her paws to her ears in irritation and squinted her eyes shut, focusing all her mental power to forcing the voice to shut up, "Get out of my head! Go find someone else to be your Listener!"

" _So be it. Your fate is sealed. I will find a new Listener, one I know who won't disappoint me. May you find suffering and damnation in the Void_." The voice became quiet, and Alyssa became dimly aware of the fact that there was someone in front of her, staring at her in confusion.

"Can I help you?"

The Courier seemed to ignore her apparent insanity and replied, "I've been looking for you. Got something I'm s'posed to deliver, your hands only." He began digging through his own knapsack, "Let's see here..." He pulled out a letter, "A letter, from Orgnar at the Bannered Mare, requested you by name, told me to tell you to watch for a blade in the dark."

She took the letter as the courier ran past her. 'A Blade in the Dark,' that was a temporary code-phrase Delphine had given to Alyssa, to mean that she had a lead she was looking into, and if she wasn't busy, to stop by the Bannered Mare. Alyssa stuffed the letter into her knapsack, making a mental note to talk to Delphine about it after she'd taken care of this whole problem with the Dark Brotherhood.

* * *

Soon enough, she could soon see the ruins of Volunruud in the distance. Thankfully, she didn't see anyone present. Not that it didn't stop her from drawing her Ebony Sword as she opened the doors of the ruins and went inside. She hoped that Commander Maro wasn't far with that squad, because she had arrived and didn't see a single Agent. The ruins themselves were fairly straightforward, but she crept as quietly as possible through them regardless.

Her ears soon picked up on voices down one corridor, and she realized that she was most definitely not alone in this crypt. She crept up to the door she had picked up the voices from and began listening. A cultured, smooth, young voice with an accent (the name of which conveniently slipped her mind) spoke with another figure, who identified himself as the Listener. Grimacing when she realized that the Night Mother had managed to find a new Listener already, she did her best to quietly open the door and peak through the crack. She witnessed a man in fanciful clothing, clearly a high-class individual. She figured that he must by Amaund Motierre. Behind him was what looked like an Imperial Soldier that she recognized, which threw her for a loop, considering her alliances beyond the Penitus Oculatus. Amaund Motierre finished speaking, and an old, gruff voice that she immediately recognized spoke to Amaund, "Well, well. This is quite the contract. No doubt, you realize that payment for this big of a contract would be... equally proportionate."

"Of course, this amulet should help pay off the initial costs. I'll hold you to it, though. Once the Emperor's head rolls, you'll receive the rest of your payment."

Festus Krex's voice spoke once again, "Of course. Ol' Titus won't even know what hit him."

A small gasp escaped her mouth, and Rexus immediately noticed the open door. He drew his sword and yelled at Amaund to get behind him. Alyssa scrambled to get away as the door flew open and Festus walked out, fire spells flaring to life in his hands, "Now ain't this a surprise?" He threw a Fireball at her as she got to her feet and leaped out of the way. "Our newest recruit's come back for more." He held his hands together and sent a stream of fire at the spot she was standing at mere moments ago. "Too bad for her, because Sithis has chosen me to be the Night Mother's Listener, and unlike you, I don't intend to disappoint her."

"You have mommy issues!" She inwardly cursed herself for not thinking of a better comeback, then ducked under a Firebolt clearly meant for her. The Dragon in her was almost yelling at her to face him head on, if only to spit in Sithis's face and show that she wasn't going quietly. Without thinking, she Shouted at him. Wind and magic erupted from her mouth and slammed into Festus, throwing him against the wall. She realized at that moment that she could end all of this, just run the Listener through like that. And yet, she felt something wrong. There was something else in her mind, and it was on high-alert all of the sudden, snarling and clawing at unseen restraints to tear and rend flesh and bone. She looked at the flight of stairs leading to the entrance of Volunruud, then realized that the Penitus Oculatus Agents were in trouble, and she wasn't certain how she knew.

A weakened chuckled behind her caught her attention, pulling her attention away from the entrance to Festus Krex, "Looks like Arnbjorn was right after all." She stared in confusion as he began casting a healing spell on himself, trying to recover his strength, as he looked up at her with a sneer, "You're a Companion. How else would you have the Beast Blood?"

Alyssa had barely heard of the Companions, save for that they were based in Whiterun, and she'd seen them kill a Giant once. It took some time for the implications to settle in, and she became terrified at the thought. Especially when the recent visions of Hircine and his Hunting Grounds had started. She knew she hadn't yet given a thought towards joining the Companions, and barely had any real contact with them outside the occasional greeting when she bumped into one of them in the market. If the Companions were what Festus said, but she wasn't part of them, how did she get it?

She had no time to wonder as Festus was getting back on his feet, and Rexus had joined the fray and was swinging at her. She dodged his sword, shoved him back, then made a break for the stairs. On the way up, she tripped over a shovel on the stairs. As she recovered, she immediately took note of a skeleton that she had given no thought to originally, who was now glaring at her, before its dusty, dry bones began moving seemingly on their own. Not wanting to stay a moment longer, Alyssa got back on her feet, backing up, then kicking the animate Skeleton down the stairs, "Your problem now!" She didn't wait for a response and bolted up the stairs. There was a lot on her mind, and it was becoming harder to think, especially when her suit started to feel confining and tight.

Outside Volunruud, she found a horror-show waiting for her. Penitus Oculatus Agents, or rather pieces of their corpses, were strewn about the field around the tomb. She surveyed the area, hoping to see one living ally among them when she heard a pained grunt. She could smell who it was without even realizing it, but when her eyes met with Commander Maro, she realized what had attacked them. His Steel Greatsword lay to one side, broken and bent, while he had a hand pressed against his side, to try and stop the bleeding from his new injury. His eyes met Alyssa's and without a single word, she knew what had happened. It was an ambush, in case she tried anything against the Dark Brotherhood. She walked up to Maro, resisting the sudden, inexplicable urge to tear his throat out, and knelt beside him, "Commander?"

He gave her an odd look, "You seem... fuzzier than normal." She prepared a healing spell to use on the Commander, but as soon as she started casting it, He called out, "Look out!" She barely had time to roll out of the way of a battleaxe that missed her neck.

She got back onto her feet to come face to face with Arnbjorn, the second to last person she wanted to see right then, "So, the Penitus Oculatus doesn't have enough men, and they turn to the Companions, how convenient."

She yelled at him, feeling rather unhinged, "I'm _not_ a Companion!"

Arnbjorn's brow furrowed, "Not many other ways to contract Lycanthropy unless you joined the Circle." He swing his battleaxe again, which Alyssa avoided. He spoke to her again, "You feel it, don't you? The call of the Hunt. You want to shed your weak, pathetic form and bask in the glory and bloodshed of a Werewolf."

"Shut your mouth before I tear your Gods-damned heart out through your throat!" Alyssa knew that he was goading her, trying to distract her, get her to make a mistake. She wasn't going to let him, as she opened her mouth with the intention of Shouting him to Oblivion. What came out was far from a Shout, and sounded more like a roar, but not a Dragon's roar.

Arnbjorn actually paused for a moment, as if uncertain what to do next. She took the opportunity to lash out, swinging her sword, only to hit the pole of his axe as he raised it to block. All rational thought seemed to have disappeared as she lunged for him, leaping for an overhead strike. He saw it coming, but didn't have time to take advantage of her leaving herself open. She was too fast and he could only block her swing. She snarled at him and twirled, sweeping the sword with the intent of catching his exposed midriff. He caught the swing, then jabbed at her, catching her in the chest. She dropped her sword and staggered, giving him the opportunity to land a second punch to the head, sending her tumbling. He picked up his battleaxe, then lifted it overhead, with the Dragonborn's neck as his target.

He didn't get the chance to swing as Commander Maro, in the heat of the moment, yelled and tackled Arnbjorn, throwing him off-balance and sending him to the ground. With one hand closed around Arnbjorn's neck, Maro began throwing punch after punch, each hit connecting and doing seemingly nothing. Arnbjorn caught Maro's next punch in one hand while the other grabbed Maro by the neck of his cuirass. He pulled Maro down and slammed his forehead into Maro's. He threw the Commander aside and got back up.

Alyssa tried to get back up, to get back into the fight, but something kept her practically glued to the spot. She was on all fours, staring at the ground and breathing heavily. She noticed the fur on her hands changing from their normal white-gray shade to black. Wisps of thin, black mist seemed to enshroud her as she felt her Shrouded Armor become constricting, then begin to disappear through unknown magics to make room for her sudden growth and change in size and structure. Her claws sharpened and lengthened, as her leg bones seemed to break and rebuild themselves in a new shape, the sudden, agonizing pain forcing a scream from her as she felt every muscle in her body grow in strength and size. There was a sudden, burning sensation in her face and she shut her eyes on instinct, as the last vestiges of her sane mind prayed to the Nine for the pain to stop before being suppressed by the now unshackled monster in her head.

Arnbjorn couldn't stop himself from sneering at seeing Alyssa's transformation. The Beast within her had awoken, and from the sound of it, this was her very first transformation. No doubt, she'd be weakened from the transformation, barely able to move, or even stand, which gave him the opportunity to end their fight. He picked up his axe again, sparing a glare for Maro, who had managed to regain consciousness, but was in too much pain to do anything. That momentary glimpse was apparently enough to distract him however, as he was suddenly viciously slapped aside by a large, clawed hand. A roar all too familiar to him caught his attention as the Werewolf, against what he had expected, charged at him and leaped, claws outstretched. He rolled out of the way, but as soon as he stood up, the Werewolf swiped and backhanded him hard enough to send him flying a few feet. He had no time to react before the Werewolf had pounced on him and lifted him up by the throat. He didn't flinch even when the Werewolf growled at him. Instead, he growled back and attempted to kick the Werewolf. The Werewolf responded by throwing him against the ground, and lunging for his neck. She latched onto his neck and jerked her head to the side, breaking his neck in an instant. She tore into him, claws cutting large strips of flesh off and spraying blood everywhere.

When Commander Maro managed to gulp down his last healing potion and had recovered his strength somewhat, he rolled onto his side and saw the gruesome end of the fight, as well as the fact that there was now a Werewolf standing over what used to be a Dark Brotherhood assassin. He saw another assassin appear from the Volunruud entrance, only to disappear in what looked like an Oblivion portal upon seeing the two. Maro realized with horror that this left him alone with the Werewolf. The Werewolf seemed to know this and turned to face him. There was something to be said about staring death in the face, but the only thought in Commander Maro's head was that he was about to die, ripped apart by who he realized used to be his new recruit.

Instead of doing so, the Werewolf suddenly took off running, off to the nearest cluster of trees and away from the fight. Commander Maro was left confused, worried, and relieved at the same time. He heard two voices, one of whom he recognized, and looked up to see two Khajiits, one he recognized. They noticed him as well, and were rushing to his side to help him. "This one has seen better days," Kharjo observed as he got on his knees and searched through his back for a healing potion.

"I know, but we've got a problem. One of the assassins is dead, and Alyssa's gone."

Khayla's eyes perked up and her eyes widened in panic, before settling for a determined stare, "Tell me where she has gone and I shall find her."

Commander Maro pointed towards the forest down the mountain, "She ran off. But be careful. She... well she came a little unhinged during the fight."

Khayla listened to his warning, then ran off to find Alyssa.

* * *

She wasn't sure when the monster had grown tired of its rampage, but when she finally regained control of her body, she found herself in a forest, with next to nothing on, and the clothes that she normally would have on strewn about. She felt a lingering pain all throughout her body and curled up, shivering. It hurt to move, and the cold, hard ground wasn't helping matters any. At that moment, she felt like she was going to die, even though part of her was chastising her for giving up so damn easily. It had to be the guilt of tearing someone apart, even a Dark Brotherhood assassin, but she wanted nothing more than to curl up in some hole and hide until the world forgot she existed.

A warm hand pressed against her back and a familiar voice spoke to her, "You are feeling well?"

She turned to meet Khayla's concerned gaze, watching it turn to horror upon seeing the blood. None of it was Alyssa's, her Beast form had seen to that. Khayla put her hand on Alyssa's cheek, "You aren't. We must find Commander Maro." She paused when she realized that Alyssa was stark naked, her clothes, armor, and weapon, which one would think to have been torn apart by her transformation, were strewn about and mostly intact. An effect of Hircine's 'magic' made it work as such to make the transformation quicker, so that one's inner monster could be unleashed sooner. Alyssa did her best to curl up in Khayla's hold, uncaring that she was getting blood on the latter's armor. "We should get you cleaned up first."

* * *

Alyssa hated being fussed over this much, no matter what her condition was. When Khayla lifted her up bridal-style after packing up as much of Alyssa's equipment as possible, she tried to protest, and was met with a firm glare that told her that no matter how much she complained, Khayla was carrying her to the nearest stream or lake and cleaning her up. Thankfully, the nearest stream of clear water wasn't far, but Halted Stream Camp, a known bandit camp, was liable to give them trouble, unless they could get by quietly.

Just in case, Khayla carried Alyssa across the body of water to the other side, not minding that she got her armor wet. Setting Alyssa down, she cracked open a bottle of healing potion and managed to talk Alyssa into drinking it. She then began stripping out of her own armor, leaving her bra and underpants on to try and avoid the awkwardness, and left it on the bank to dry out. She imagined she'd need it repaired either way, then moved those thoughts aside in favor of getting Alyssa in the water to try and get the blood scrubbed out of her fur. Khayla wouldn't be the first to admit she's had a hard time getting blood out of her own fur, or admit that the Khajiit still had ways of doing such. Alyssa groaned in a weak protest to being treated like a kitten, but Khayla ignored it in favor of easing up her scrubbing so she didn't further injure Alyssa, though she, at present, had no idea what ailed her.

Getting out of the water for a moment, Khayla dug through her backpack and found a torch and some flint. She lit up the torch, mindful of her own fur, and held it up to check Alyssa's condition. She had gotten most of the blood off, but she couldn't find any indications of an injury beyond her shivering. She looked up at the sky and realized that it was sundown and decided to get a campfire started to help dry themselves and their clothes off.

She pulled Alyssa out of the water, then set up the campfire. She kept her Steel Sword close by, no doubt any curious bandits looking for an easy target might pick them out quickly against the moonlit landscape. She checked her Steel armor and found that, to her chagrin, the leather components still hadn't dried yet. Alyssa had curled up on the bedroll that Khayla had laid out for her, and the shaking seemed to have subsided a bit. While Alyssa may have been a more civilized Khajiit with a thrill for adventure, Khayla had lived on the road, and learned quickly about how to set up and tear down camps for traveling, it just was convenience for her to find others to travel with.

When Alyssa finally seemed calm, Khayla moved to her side, "You are feeling better now, yes?"

Alyssa nodded. Her eyes then widened and she tried to get up, only to feel Khayla's hand firmly planted on her side. "But, Commander Maro..."

"Kharjo shall take care of him. He is more skilled with medicine than you think. As soon as possible, we shall return to the outpost and get you refitted."

Alyssa felt some comfort, then turned to look in Khayla's eyes, "...I killed a man, tore him to pieces, because I couldn't control myself."

"We all have our fights. You're alive, that is what matters."

"...But, you don't understand, you aren't the one with a wolf in your head who can become your body." Alyssa looked away, tears forming, "You must think I'm a monster. You're probably scared of me. Yo-"

Alyssa was silenced by Khayla's mouth against her own. Khayla let go of her for a moment and said, "We will find a way to fix this. If we cannot, then I will not let you suffer this alone."

Alyssa readjusted a bit so that she lay on her back, "You'd become a Werewolf for me? I couldn't ask that of you. I don't want to damn both of us to Hircine's Hunting Grounds. You deserve the Sand Behind the Stars, to be in Khenarthi's presence."

Khayla stared hard into Alyssa's eyes. _Gods, she's so beautiful_ , Alyssa couldn't help but think to herself. She realized that Khayla felt it. She glanced down, in between their legs and commented, "Someone is excited."

Alyssa blushed, glancing down at her erect length. She blushed, embarrassed, "Sorry, it's just..." There was so much she wanted to say, but that all seemed unimportant, especially when Khayla just resumed kissing her again.

They lay there for a few moments, before Khayla let her mouth go and said, "Do not apologize for loving me. After your business with the Penitus Oculatus is done, perhaps we could... get married?"

If she blushed any harder, she was certain that it would show, "I-I... Yes... Yes, I'd like that. When we're done with the Dark Brotherhood." Khayla grinned as she continued, "But... I won't be settling down just yet, there's still some things that I'd like to experience... and some business to take care of."

"I would take care of the house while you were gone. I am sure that Jordis or Lydia wouldn't mind my company."

"...I know this seems like an odd time, but I've been thinking about selling some of my property. I'd like to keep Breezehome and Proudspire Manor, but just for you, I'd rebuild Helgen."

Khayla's eyes seemed to shine, "You would do that just for me? I would help you rebuild Helgen if it came to that."

* * *

It had been an hour since then, and Alyssa was finally asleep and partially clothed. Khayla hadn't yet felt tired, so she stayed by the fire. Mercifully, her armor had finally dried off, just like she herself had. She slipped back into it, them refastened her sword to her belt. She looked around a bit, admiring the scenery. Off in the distance, she could see Dragonsreach, the Palace of Whiterun. Alyssa had told her about it, but she had never been in there. She had never been in any of the cities as it was. She wished to see what Alyssa did, if only for a little bit, even though a lifetime with her seemed like a dream come true.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of splashing, followed by an arrow whooshing past her head. Khayla drew her sword and turned around to see a group of Bandits charging at them, clearly intending to overpower the two of them. Despite her heavy armor, Khayla was good at quick maneuvers, as she dodged the arrows shot at her, then took the quick opportunity to behead one of the Bandits. Alyssa had been startled awake by the sound of steel meeting iron and got to her feet. She dived to avoid an Iron Warhammer swinging in her direction, then blasted twin streams of fire at the Marauder. The Marauder panicked when he realized that he was on fire, giving her time to rip the Warhammer out of his hands and crack his own skull with it. She turned to another Bandit and Shouted, " _Krii Lun Aus_ _!_ " A wave of purple energy enveloped the unlucky Bandit, forming into purple runes that caused him to gag, then drop his sword. He coughed and fell over as the runes set to work, causing his iron armor to rust and fall apart, then moving onto his skin and drawing blood where they touched him. Alyssa took a moment to grab her Ebony sword, and in a single swing, decapitated the Bandit.

The remaining five bandits actually paused for a moment, as if weighing their options. Khayla tightened her grip on her sword, then turned to hold it in both hands, expecting the next hit to come. It never did, when a steel arrow embedded itself in the head of one Bandit on the side. The remaining Bandits looked beyond the two Khajiits and immediately turned to run, panicking and yelling as they did. Khayla turned around to see three figures at the edge of their impromptu campground. Alyssa seemed to recognize them, but before she could say anything, she wobbled, then began to fall. Khayla dropped her sword, caught Alyssa, and laid her down on the bedroll, checking to make sure that she was alright. The Khajiit still had a pulse, but it seemed that she hadn't completely recovered from her earlier fight that day. Khayla looked back to the figures approaching them and picked up her sword. One of the three, a woman wearing what appeared to be Ancient Nord Armor, spoke in a firm tone, "Put it away, Khajiit. We're not your enemies."

Khayla kept her sword out and raised it, "Just because you save us from common bandits does not mean I trust you."

"The fact that you're still breathing should say something. The three of us were out for a midnight stroll, saw the fighting, and figured that you could use a little help." She gestured to Alyssa, "It helps that Vilkas here recognized her Voice."

Khayla recalled hearing Alyssa's Shouting during the fight, "Why is that important? Who are you?"

One of the twins flanking the woman stepped up. His armor was definitely steel, but the designs on it were unique, wolf-themed variants that she'd never seen before. "I am Vilkas, and these two are Aela and Farkas, of the Companions, and we've been looking for her." He pointed to Alyssa, prompting Khayla to hold her sword with the flat side facing them, to block any possible attacks. The Companion raised his hand, "Relax, there's no bounty on her head. We were here because some of us never actually got to thank her for helping with that Giant, and to extend an offer to join the Companions. I've seen her fight, and while she clearly needs to work on her skills with a Warhammer, she knows how to swing a sword."

Khayla actually let her defenses relax a bit, but still kept her sword out. Vilkas took note of her condition, "It seems that she won't be answering that for a little while..." He proceeded to take a seat by the fire, followed by the other two. Khayla finally decided that these three weren't a threat and sheathed her sword. She sat down by the bedroll as Vilkas addressed them again, "Of all the places you could've camped, I'm not sure next to a Bandit Hideout was the best of them."

Khayla held her paws out in front of the fire, "I was not left with much choice. I found her in the woods, shaking and in pain, with someone else's blood all over her." She noticed a momentary flash of shock on Farkas's face. "I'd like to stay with her until she wakes up. I will say that I can handle myself and have done so."

"That may be, and you have certainly shown that you know your way around a sword, but it is dangerous out here, and given that Whiterun isn't that far from here, I'd suggest that we bring her back. I know she has a house there, and one of the Priests at the Temple of Kynareth might be willing to help her."

Khayla thought about it, before making a decision, "She'll be needed back at Dragon Bridge once she's recovered, she has important business there."

Vilkas grinned, "Alright. Farkas can help with carrying anything if you need it. Aela and I will head back." He turned to Aela, "No doubt, Kodlak will want to speak with me about some personal matter or another."

* * *

A/N

→ Kind of a longer chapter than the others that I've written, and the cat's out of the bag (pun completely and utterly intended) in this chapter. Alyssa's a hermaphrodite, simple as that. This is not crazy idea that I have about the Dragonborn in general (and I have a couple that [and I have no shame in spoiling] are going to be explored later on that may or may not go against established lore), more just a specific trait for a specific Dragonborn that otherwise has little impact on the story.

→ As to her being a Werewolf, that's not part of the quest-line idea itself, just the beginning of something else that I'm setting up for her. How she contracted it will be explained in the next few chapters. And using Flames... I can't BS my way through that, I'll think of a valid reason for why she knows it beyond it being a Starting Spell.


	7. Penitus Oculatus Questline Pt 5

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. Original Content © Me.

* * *

Quest-line AU: Penitus Oculatus

"5: Guardians"

* * *

" _...Raksha... You are just so precious. My little cub." The voice was pleasant, and soothing to hear. It was a woman's voice, soft and tender, like water. She felt a paw brush the fur on her forehead, followed by the voice saying to her, "You're going to grow up and do great things. Blessings of the Moons permit it." She could scarcely understand any of that, but somehow knew that it meant good things._

 _Another voice spoke, a male voice, it was rougher, but there was something passionate about it. The speaker was remarkably calm as he spoke, though there was a hint of impatience, "La'Raza, we must leave soon. Is everything packed?"_

 _The room seemed to move, she was curled up against something warm. She heard a beating sound, one that gave her the feeling of reassurance, "It is S'Raza now. And yes..." The female speaker's mouth moved, but she couldn't hear the sound, "...everything is packed. Have you made the arrangements with Ri'saad?"_

" _He has agreed to help us. Once we leave these cities, there is a Nord who owns a small home near Elsweyr's border. He has agreed to shelter us in his home, and in exchange, I have agreed to help him however possible. The only people besides us and Ri'saad who know about it is a courier from Skyrim. The Thalmor will be searching for a very long time for us, but we'll finally be safe."_

Alyssa's eyes snapped open, and she found herself staring at the ceiling of a familiar building. She sat up, taking note of the fur armor that she now wrapped up in. A small cup filled with water was offered to her, which she kindly took and downed before the Priestess could even say anything. She gave the cup back, then turned around to hang her legs over the edge of the bed. She recognized a shrine to Kynareth, as well as the Priests, and an out-of-place Nord in Steel Armor. He didn't seem to immediately notice her, so she took a moment to meditate on her dream. She couldn't recall much, but one name stood out. _Akhara_ , she recalled. That name was used to address her, but she couldn't remember much about it. It was at that point that the Nord noticed her and walked over to her, "Nice to see you awake now."

Alyssa looked up at him. She recognized him, somewhat. "You... You're Vilkas, right?"

The Nord chuckled, "Actually, Vilkas is my brother. I'm Farkas."

"...I've seen you before. In the marketplace, right?"

"Yeah. You also helped us bring down that Giant."

"I... I remember that. I remember being slapped aside, and not a moment later having that Archer person land in my lap."

"Yeah, it was a particularly irritable Giant. Speaking of, we wanted to thank you again for helping us take care of that Giant."

"...The Archer already offered, and like I said, I'll consider it, but at the moment, I'm busy. Where's Khayla?"

"Um, well, she's not exactly..."

Alyssa shot up off the bed and grabbed Farkas by the edges of his steel cuirass, "Where is she?"

Farkas remained calm, but held his hand up, "Easy, she's right outside the city. You know the laws about Khajiits in the city."

Alyssa was sorely tempted to ask about why she was allowed when Khayla wasn't, but somehow, she just knew the answer would be any of the following: You saved Whiterun from the Stormcloaks, You're the Dragonborn, You're the Thane of Whiterun, The Companions said good things about you, and so on and so on. She didn't care for the excuses, she just wanted to see Khayla safe. She let go of Farkas and apologized for the roughness, then left the temple, trying to figure out how she'd approach the Companions about their secret, if Arnbjorn was telling the truth. In the meantime, Dragon Bridge and Commander Maro's wellbeing were her top priorities.

As she walked through the streets of Whiterun, and past Breezehome, she resisted the urge to duck inside and hide. She had a job to do, one that she hoped would help make Skyrim safer. She couldn't help thinking back to all that she had accomplished, becoming Thane, winning the Civil War, or even the mere fact that she was the Dragonborn. Despite all that, she still felt the distrusting looks from the guards, and heard them mutter their distrust under their breath, waiting for her to pick a pocket or a lock, snatch up some loose jewelry or coin, or even drop a body over some skooma. The same distrust that she had initially joined the Imperial Legion to try and escape, just because the Stormcloaks were more open about their hatred for anyone not a Nord, still followed her everywhere, and it had forced her to look a bit more deeply for reasons to justify why she had joined the Legion in spite of her beliefs. She recalled how she was raised believing in both the Old Nordic Gods and the Khajiiti Gods, believing in things such as Kyne and Khenarthi being sisters.

Outside Whiterun, she met with Khayla again, then brought her along for a carriage ride back up to Haafingar, and back to Dragon Bridge. The whole ride there, nothing was discussed between the two of them, save for the occasional comment from the carriage driver about the weather.

* * *

Mercifully, Commander Maro was recovering rather well, and was already up on his feet, despite one of the Penitus Oculatus healers trying to get him to lay back down. When Alyssa and Khayla arrived in Dragon Bridge, he asked Alyssa to meet with him, alone, at the Four Shields Inn. Khayla decided to stick with Kharjo for the time being.

The Innkeeper was a bit wary of Maro and Alyssa, and when he requested a private room, it was apparent that the innkeeper had something different in mind from whatever they were actually doing. Nevertheless, when they finally managed to get some privacy, the Commander turned to her, keeping the door within reach and a fair distance between them, "So. Werewolf?"

Alyssa's ears flattened, "I'm sorry. I wasn't even aware of it until recently." She paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully, "...If you think I'm dangerous, or a liability, I'd appreciate it if you just told me now."

Maro crossed his arms, "...I never said you were either. I'll repeat what I said earlier, that I'm glad you're on our side. Never expected one of Hircine's Children to be for our cause."

"It wasn't like I had it my whole life, for all I know, I caught it from some bandit or another. And for what it's worth, Azura would have more luck earning my faith than Hircine."

"Just... watch the claws and teeth, alright?"

She looked up at him and nodded. Maro seemed relaxed, so he pulled up a chair, motioning for her to sit down as well. "So," he began, "What did you find out?"

"Motierre wants the Emperor dead."

Maro's eyes widened for a moment, before he chuckled and said, "I must be getting old, because for a moment, it sounded like you said Motierre put a contract on the Emperor's head?"

"Did I stutter? I said Motierre wants the Emperor dead."

"Ha ha," was Maro's reply at the sarcastic echo. He rubbed his temples, before rubbing his eyes, "Motierre's in the dungeons of Solitude now. If we could get more information out of him, we could stop this before it happens."

Alyssa's thoughts drifted to one somewhat unnerving Court Wizard that she had cleared out a vampire nest for. "Sybille might be able to help," she mused.

"The Court Wizard? What do you know about her?"

"Besides the fact that she creeps the Oblivion out of me? She spend a lot of time with the prisoners. I dunno, maybe I just figure that she'd know how to get him to talk." Alyssa shuddered when she remembered her very first time meeting Sybille, and that almost predatory glare in her eyes. Sometimes, just sometimes, she could swear that she smelled fresh blood whenever she was nearby.

"If you think she knows something, you need to ask her. Any information that you get is information we can use." He gestured for her to leave.

As she did, she paused and looked back to Commander Maro, "Commander, there's something else."

He was intrigued, "Well, don't hold your tongue."

"When I saw Amaund Motierre speaking with the Listener, there was another person, an Imperial Soldier."

"...You're sure about this?"

"I recognized him from the Battle of Whiterun. Rexus. I saw him fighting off the Stormcloaks before he mysteriously disappeared."

"I'd heard about that. Unfortunately, my team isn't very well-liked in Solitude, so even if we knew that he was in on the plot, it'd be difficult to investigate."

"Do you know if they caught him?"

"Doubtful, if he was wearing Imperial Legion armor, I doubt anyone would've even batted an eye at him unless they were Stormcloaks. If he's with Motierre, you'll have to watch your back. This isn't the Thieves Guild, after all."

 _How ironic_ , she thought, recalling that she had been to Riften, on business about an unusual gem, and ended up joining the aforementioned guild in a spur-of-the-moment decision. She reached under her Fur cuirass and pulled off the Gauldur Amulet. She stuffed it in a pocket and pulled out another necklace. It was a silver necklace with an image of a dragon with its wings spread out in the vague shape of a diamond. The aptly-named Red Diamond, given to her in haste due to the fact that they didn't have time to actually mark her as Ulfric had begun his march on Whiterun then. "I might be able to get some answers, if I'm lucky."

* * *

It took some persuasion and a bit of gold, but she finally managed to persuade the stable owner to let her buy a horse, which she proceeded to ride toward Solitude with Khayla tagging along. When she arrived, the guards seemed to remark her with indifference, and as she reached the large doors into Solitude, she could swear that she heard one of them mutter, "Hands to yourself, sneak thief." She had Khayla enter first, before they could say anything about it.

She paid the guard no mind as she walked into Solitude, and towards the Blue Palace. Along the way, she passed by the Legion Headquarters, a location that she had since become rather familiar with, as well as the Bard's College, Proudspire Manor, and a strange man mumbling about his master being between worlds.

Once she got reached the Blue Palace and went inside, she began searching for Sybille, and was told that she was asleep in her quarters at the moment. While Alyssa would admit that she sometimes reached her house at an odd time and slept at sometimes odd times, she didn't like the idea of sleeping during the day. Nevertheless, she went to speak to Sybille about the Dungeons.

* * *

"Amaund Motierre?" Some time later, she'd finally managed to get permission to go into the Solitude Dungeon, though they wouldn't let Khayla in with her. She'd managed to find Amaund Motierre, just as she had hoped, in a prison cell.

He looked up at her, disdainful, "What do you want?"

She stood closer to the bars, "How did you plan on killing the Emperor?"

Motierre crossed his arms, "Straight to the point, are we? Well, you're not getting anything from me."

"What about Rexus? I'll bet he'd talk."

Motierre scoffed, "He's as dumb as a rock, I doubt he could even tell you what he had for breakfast."

Alyssa sneered at him, "Well, I could always turn you over to Sybille Stentor."

"The Court Mage? I don't think she knows a spell that can loosen my tongue."

A voice from elsewhere in the prison yelled, "You don't know what she can do!" Alyssa listened carefully, picking up a small whimper from the same direction, followed by, "...the teeth, Gods..."

She had a suspicion about Sybille, but kept it to herself for the moment, except to scare Motierre, "I hear she's very good at what she does."

"...What's that?"

"Pain."

For some reason, that seemed to work, as Motierre visibly flinched, before speaking, "Alright, fine. My plan, as detailed in the letter I gave to the Listener, involved killing Vittoria Vici, on her wedding. That would've drawn the Emperor here, to Skyrim. My next plan was to kill Gaius Maro and plant false evidence on him, implicating Commander Maro in a Stormcloak plot. After that, The Gourmet needed to die, and someone was going to sneak into the palace in his place and poison the Emperor." He paused as his words sank in, then said, "After that, I was going to nominate myself as the next candidate for Emperor on the premise that I would bring back the Empire that Tiber Septim had first founded, the one that fought back against the Elves."

Alyssa thought about what he had said, surprised at how many people he wanted killed, all so he could become Emperor. She glared at him, feeling her Dragon-self getting angry with the fool, for thinking that he could earn his rule through such a cowardly path. Her tail flicked in agitation and she told him, "You don't deserve anything less than a short trip to the headsman's axe." She was sorely tempted to draw her Ebony sword and just stab him through the bars, save the headsman the trouble. However, she had just gotten her sword cleaned and repaired, and wasn't sure how the guards would feel about someone executing the prisoners they were guarding.

As soon as she left the Solitude Dungeon, she went to go and speak with General Tulius. She had questions for him regarding Rexus, because at no point so far did she hear of a backstabbing Legionnaire found dead or in prison. While she wouldn't put blind luck out of the question (she'd lived it firsthand in Helgen), she was suspicious that either Motierre knew something she didn't, or Rexus was an expert at misleading appearances. As she walked into the courtyard where the soldiers were training, one of the Imperial Soldiers briefly pulled her aside, "Did you hear? They say the Penitus Oculatus got slaughtered outside of Volunruud, and that the Dark Brotherhood was involved."

She didn't feel the need to dignify his response with a confirmation. It was already well-known that there was a slaughter at Volunruud, Amaund Motierre probably told the tale himself. She put it aside and went inside the Legion Headquarters. Inside, she found General Tullius sitting down, staring at a map of Skyrim. He acknowledged her as soon as she walked into the room, "Legate."

"General."

"I hope this won't take long, I've got a meeting with one of the other Legates about preparing for the inevitable Second War."

"...If we don't stop the Dark Brotherhood, there's not going to be a Second War."

"By the Eight, is that all you're here for, Legate? I already told Commander Maro that we simply can't spare the manpower to go chasing down myths."

Alyssa glared at him, "That's what you told Rikke about the Jagged Crown."

Tullius gave an exasperated groan, "Proving that a crown exists is far different from a secret organization of assassins."

"Amaund has a plot against the Emperor. He-"

Tullius stood up from his chair and cut her off, "-is already in a prison cell. There's nothing more to it!" He rubbed his eyebrows for a moment, "I swear, the Penitus Oculatus is turning into another Blades organization. You're jumping at shadows and thinking that there's a man behind the man behind the man."

"That corpse wearing Shrouded Armor begs to differ."

"You mean the mangled bodies of all the Penitus Oculatus agents? You're the only one who has that armor that I know of, and we didn't see any other corpses even remotely matching the description that was given. If I didn't know any better, I'd almost be incline to think you did it yourself."

Alyssa was dumbfounded, "Sir, what in the name of the Divines makes you think I did it? I'm loyal to the Empire, and if helping you win the war isn't proof enough, how do I prove that?"

General Tullius seemed a bit agitated, "We found out about that shrine that Jarl Elisif sent you to, and I've had to persuade the Thalmor Justicars that it was a different Khajiit visiting a shrine to one of the Eight. Not to mention, there's been reports of a Khajiit matching your description helping Madanach and the Forsworn terrorize the innocent people of Markarth following his jailbreak. And on top of that, numerous recaptured Stormcloak prisoners report a Khajiit that looks a lot like you specifically killing various Thalmor patrols and even Shouting one group to pieces." Tullius knew he was on to something when he saw her ears fold back in response, "You've already gone against the Empire, despite swearing fealty to it. How am I supposed to trust you when you see fit to do as you please?"

Alyssa realized that at this point, mentioning Rexus wasn't going to change the tone of this conversation. She had the decency to look ashamed and replied, "I've been nothing but loyal. I fought in the war and did what you ordered, no questions asked." She looked up to meet Tullius' disapproval, "And my working with the Penitus Oculatus is proof that I am loyal to Emperor Titus Mede II. Which is why I need your help. There's a soldier by the name of Rexus, he fought in the Battle of Whiterun, he's in on the plot as well and he's still loose. If you'll just-"

Tullius cut her off again, "I'd give you one more chance to prove yourself, and you would stand here accusing my soldiers of being traitors to the Empire? You're lucky I don't send you to the Dungeons for insubordination! Now get out of here, and come back when you have a real problem for me to deal with, like the Aldmeri Dominion or the remaining Stormcloak camps."

The Dragon in her was positively seething in anger, and she so desperately felt the desire to Shout him into submission. As her commanding officer however, she held back. She then realized that he was only her commanding officer, and at that moment, the decision bcame clear to her. In the heat of the moment, her Dragon-self asserted and she pulled out her Red Diamond Amulet. Before Tullius could ask, she opened her mouth, causing the building to shake as she spoke in a low, calm voice, "Consider this my resignation." She yanked the Amulet off, snapping the chain, and threw it aside. She turned and left the building before either one could say anything else to escalate the situation.

 _Aedra and Daedra, that definitely wasn't my finest moment_ , Alyssa thought as she left the courtyard, wondering if that was the right thing to do. For all she knew, she just confirmed Tullius' suspicions, and probably gave him new ones. Given the stares that the nearest soldiers by the doorway and in the yard, they had no doubt heard the argument between them, and it was hard not to, when one's Voice could shatter steel and level mountains with a mere whisper (even if most of that was exaggerated). When she saw their eyes, she could see a certain hopelessness, because the Dragonborn wasn't going to lead them into battle anymore, she wasn't going to inspire them anymore. As she left, she ran into Beirand, who stared at her with a look of shock. After a moment, he asked, "Is it true? You're leaving the Legion?"

Alyssa couldn't find it within her to look him in the eye, "...Yes, it's true." For some reason, she wanted to cry, and even when she spoke, her voice was shaky, "...It's... It's for the greater good."

Beirand looked depressed to see her leave, but put his hand on her shoulder, "Well, you're still my favorite customer, Legionnaire or not. I'll keep my doors open for you."

Alyssa could've broken down in tears right there, but she wouldn't let herself. Instead, she opted to thank Beirand for his compassion, then ran off, hoping to get to Dragon Bridge before long.

* * *

She wasn't sure how, but news of her resignation beat her to Dragon Bridge, and while she was sorely tempted to have some harsh words with a courier over it, she had information for Maro. He was waiting in the Four Shields Inn, exactly where she'd left him. Khayla decided to rent a room for herself while Alyssa went to speak with the Commander.

"I heard things didn't go over well between you and the General." Alyssa wasn't sure if Maro was amused, disappointed, or somewhere in between.

She took her seat and put her head on the table, "No, they didn't. I know how Motierre planned to pull off the assassination." Maro pulled up a chair and listened carefully as she told him everything she knew, "...and he gave the Listener a letter containing the details of his plan."

Commander Maro wasted no time, "We need to get to that wedding, and frankly, I don't care if we have to disguise ourselves as Bards just to get in, it's tomorrow and I'll need all the help I can get." He looked up at her, "Can I ask you to help us with the wedding? I know I've been asking a lot of you, but-"

Alyssa held up a hand, "It's okay, Commander. My schedule's been cleared for the foreseeable future."

Maro grinned, "Vittoria's having it tomorrow, as I said before. Rest up, and I'll meet you tomorrow morning, while it's still dark out. I want to get into Solitude before dawn and the wedding starts. We'll need to work fast to cover any and all exits and all possible vantage points."

* * *

The next morning, Alyssa met up with Commander Maro, Kharjo, and Khayla. He had acquired some fine clothes to give the impression that the four of them were wedding guests. "With luck, no-one would bat an eye upon seeing us. Much less think twice about it."

At that point, Kharjo piped up, "Khajiit does not think that he would be welcome in the city, mostly because Solitude is a Nord city."

Maro grinned at him, "That's why we're leaving now. We get there fast enough and we'll make it in time for the guards to switch shifts, meaning we can sneak in without a problem. Besides, they let the Dragonborn in, what's the harm in letting in a few wedding guests?"

As Maro had predicted, when they arrived, there weren't any guards at the posts, which meant they were in the middle of a shift change. He quietly opened the door and motioned for the three to hurry in, before closing the door behind him.

As soon as he joined the trio, they were confronted by a guard, "You three! Don't you know the laws about Khajiits in the city?"

Maro cleared his throat and held out an invitation marked with the Red Diamond, putting on his best 'Nobility' voice and act, "Miss Vittoria Vici invited me to her wedding and said I could bring friends, these are my friends."

The Hold Guard took the envelope and analyzed it, before handing it back, somewhat convinced, "Can't help but notice that it's awfully early for you to arrive, doubtful that anyone besides the other Guards are up right now. Alright, I'll let it go for now. But don't expect any favors when I catch them picking locks and pockets."

The Dragon in her mind wanted to tear him apart for that comment, but she refrained, in spite of herself. Instead, their party made for the courtyard that the wedding was going to be held in. Commander Maro pointed out that he'd had a friend bring in some weapons that were hidden under each of the benches. When inquired, Commander Maro simply replied that he had a friend smuggle the weapons in. At that point, Alyssa made an observation, "You smuggled weapons to a wedding? No wonder the Imperial Legion doesn't get along with the Penitus Oculatus."

"We do what we must to protect the Emperor, and if that means sneaking weapons into a wedding in the hopes of catching a Dark Brother attempting to murder his cousin, that's what we'll do." Maro replied as he reached under one of the benches and pulled out a steel mace. He turned to Alyssa, "You and your allies need to go and look around. Alyssa, that statue looks suspicious, go take a look at it. Kharjo, see if you can scout out the ideal spots for an archer or a mage to hide. Khayla, get in touch with our allies over by the Legion headquarters. Tell them that Commander Maro sent for them. I'll secure any possible escape routes."

* * *

After the agents had done what they could to ensure the safety of the wedding, they kept a low profile while the other guests began to arrive. For the most part, no-one she knew was present, though the Argonian, which she normally wouldn't have batted an eye at, looked somewhat familiar. The two horns on his head were particularly familiar. When he made eye contact with her, and gave her a small sneer, her fears were confirmed. She nudged Maro, doing her best to make a subtle gesture to Veezara at the back of the crowd. She gave the quiet excuse that she wasn't feeling well and needed to step out of the small crowd.

As she stepped out of the crowd, she spied the shadow of something small cast on the ground. She looked up and recognized the Unchild Babette, on the walkways, with a lack of Penitus Oculatus agents that left little to the imagination as to their fates. She realized that the statue, which Maro had voiced his suspicions about, was indeed sitting on loose bricks, and she rushed back into the crowd in time to see Babette push against it. She pointed up to the statue, "Vici! Watch out!"

The sound of crumbling rock turned the newlywed's attention up in time to see the statue start to fall. Two hands pushed her out of the statue's way and Asgeir himself barely had time to avoid being crushed under the statue himself. The two of them looked up to see a shadow vanish, while from the crowd, one of the party guests tore their fancy cloak off and drew a bow of Dwarven make, followed shortly by a swiftly drawn arrow. He let go of the drawstring and the arrow flew straight and true, catching Asgeir in the shoulder. Maro picked up his steel mace and swung it at Veezara, catching the Dark Brother in the arm and knocking the bow out of his hand.

Alyssa didn't have the time to act when a young, child-like form dashed out from the shadows, fangs bared, and latched onto her back. In a panic, Alyssa backed up and slammed against a wall as Babette tried to bite her neck, knocking the wind out of the vampire child. She dislodged Babette and turned around, drawing a Steel Dagger in defense as Babette's hand began glowing bright red. The Unchild held out her hand, intending to cast Vampiric Drain on Alyssa, only for the latter to get knocked away by one of the fleeing guests. Red, sparking tendrils lashed out and struck the guest, draining his life from him for a few moments, after which Babette broke the spell and attempted to recast it. Alyssa let loose a one-word Unrelenting Force, stumbling Babette just long enough for the sharpened steel to slip through and plunge into the child-vampire's head.

Babette barely uttered a single peep as her body disintegrated, leaving only a pile of children's clothes along with various poisons, and the telltale grey dust of a vampire corpse. Alyssa didn't have the chance to contribute anything else to the fight as the all-too-familiar sound of a summon-like spell enveloped her, and she turned around to come face to face with Festus Krex. He opened his hand and released a green ball of light. All sensation left her as Festus wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her from falling over, then cast a spell that ripped open and twisted reality around them in a field of purple magic.

When the magic cleared, Festus pushed her down onto the ground, and barked some orders to someone unseen. He then gave her a quick kick to the chest that sent her sprawling. "Enjoy your stay, Khajiit, you're going to be here a while."

* * *

"Commander Maro, this goes well beyond what I've put up with. I wouldn't argue with the Emperor if he sees fit to waste his personal bodyguards on some wild goose chase, but now you've gone too far." Tullius stalked around the room toward the assembled Penitus Oculatus agents, plus two Khajiits, "Smuggling weapons into the city, attacking wedding guests, creating false documents, not to mention letting Khajiits into the city. And that's just the latest of your offenses. I swear, this isn't something I can just let you walk off with this time." He gestured to the two Khajiits, "Throw them in the cells and let the executioner-"

Maro stopped him, "Those two are with the Penitus Oculatus! You kill them and you make yourself an enemy of the Empire. Now, I did prove that the Dark Brotherhood was trying to assassinate Vittoria Vici, and we did manage to capture one of them alive."

Tullius stopped and thought about it, "You still killed a child. A _child_ , Maro! And all that was left was a pile of ash. I'm still trying to figure out how you accomplished that with a steel dagger!"

The doors to the Legion headquarters flew open and an unearthly chill filled the room as the Court Wizard strolled in, "That was no child, General Tullius."

"Ah, just got back from your investigation? And you believe him?"

Sybille placed a bowl filled with dark grey ash on the table, "Vampire Dust. It's a rare alchemical ingredient. Admittedly not as rare as Nirnroots, but under the right conditions can be used for a decent Invisibility potion. That _thing_ wasn't a child, despite looking exactly like one." She glared hard at General Tullius, causing him to actually flinch a bit, "Vampires are real, they're indiscriminate, and they have targeted children before. It's a deception tactic to lure victims by using a child-like facade. The Dark Brotherhood has welcomed Vampires and Werewolves into their ranks before, it's not impossible to assume that they still are."

Tullius threw his hands up in exasperation, "And now I suppose you're going to tell me that gargoyles and nymphs exist as well?"

One of the guards raised his hand, "Actually, I-" He was silenced by the General turning to give him a look and a silent dare to finish that sentence if he didn't value his paycheck.

Tullius growled, "Alright, so maybe, _maybe_ , your Dark Brotherhood isn't as far-fetched as I thought. Even if that were the case, where can we even start? I may be able to spare the manpower now that the war's largely over, but fighting an invisible legion of highly trained assassins? Do we even know where they're holed up?"

Maro nodded, "There's a small sanctuary in Falkreath Hold, a little ways away from the town. We had initially planned on storming the Sanctuary, but the more Gaius and I thought about it, the more we realized that simply storming one sanctuary won't stop the Dark Brotherhood, so we needed someone to try and find their plans and hopefully any other Sanctuaries. Thankfully, that's where Alyssa came in and volunteered to help after she learned about a contract on herself. Since she came back from the Falkreath Sanctuary, we have reason to believe that there might be one in Dawnstar, but we haven't found one yet." He pulled out a map of Falkreath Hold and pointed to a location that had been marked with the Hand of Mephala.

Tullius stared at the map for a long time as Maro told them about a pond of shadow right outside that they could use to identify the Sanctuary's location. "...Alright, Legate Rikke, I want you to lead a detachment of Legionnaires to Falkreath. If Commander Maro's right, I want every last Dark Brother and Sister dead and their Sanctuary torched." He turned to Commander Maro, "If there is one in Dawnstar, I suggest you get moving and find that Sanctuary."

* * *

A/N

→ An early version of the previous chapter saw Alyssa use Fire Breath, but I changed it to a different Shout because I had established in an earlier chapter that she hasn't even been to the Thalmor Embassy yet, but she had found the last word of Marked for Death, which I like to call the Death Mark, more to make it sound a bit less generic.

→ Alyssa leaving the Legion was something I had planned for a while, though I had initially wanted it to be that she leaves the Legion after dealing with some more plot-specific Thalmor-related issues. However, I just couldn't stop myself and ended up writing this as part of it. I also wanted to show that unlike in-game, her actions did have consequences beyond the guards simply mentioning it.

→ This may seem like a somewhat odd point to mention this, but in a previous Author's Note, I mentioned my feelings about Kharjo/J'zargoXDragonborn pairings. I am not against the notion, and there are some Dragonborn OCs (none mine) that I would support with them, and in the very early versions of this... madness, I kept alternating between the two myself. But the more I tried to do it, the more I felt that I didn't want to pair _my_ Dragonborn with either of the two, not because I despise either one, but more because there were already fan-pairings I supported, and I noticed that the other Khajiits in-game didn't get as much attention. Khayla ended up becoming Alyssa's love-interest, and the other named Khajiits are going to become more prevalent characters at later times.

→ And so, hints about her past are dropped, and the not-so-dramatic reveal that she's in league with the Thieves' Guild despite working against the Dark Brotherhood. The simple answer is that she doesn't yet know her Guildmates enough to know that they're partners with the Dark Brotherhood, and this, much like the mention of her working with Madanach and killing Thalmor patrols, is gonna come back to bite her in the ass at some point. As for the questlines, she has only just gotten through "A Chance Arrangement" and gotten her Thieves' Guild leathers. Not-quite-spoilers, there's more than one Dragonborn, and they're going to do the Companions and College of Winterhold Questlines. Mostly, this is based on what Arngeir says about the Dragonborn being the only one _revealed to them_. Because of this, Alyssa isn't going to learn all 20+ Shouts. The only ones she'll know that I'm not afraid of spoiling are: Unrelenting Force, Whirlwind Sprint, Marked for Death, Fire Breath, Become Ethereal, and Dragon Aspect. This is partially based on a little theory of mine that there are multiple Dragonborn bloodlines, and the Septim bloodline was the only recorded bloodline.

→ The whole deal about the Penitus Oculatus and the Imperial Legion not getting along is inspired by something that can happen as a result of the Dark Brotherhood questline. Stealth-attacking the two Penitus Oculatus agents guarding the Castle Dour with a bow turns them hostile, but the Hold Guards and Imperial Soldiers will fight against them, so I've decided to run with that, by having the Imperial Legion and the Penitus Oculatus not get along very well.


	8. Penitus Oculatus Questline Pt 6

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. Original Content © Me.

* * *

Quest-line AU: Penitus Oculatus

"6: This is No Sanctuary"

* * *

A cold, hard slap woke her up immediately. "Wake up, Dragonborn." She recognized the voice of Gabriella instantly in the unsurprisingly dark room. The Dunmer assassin was glaring at her with a cold fury that only one in her profession truly knew how to make. Alyssa chose not to say anything, prompting Gabriella to speak instead, "You know, Astrid was truly torn up to hear that you'd killed her husband, and she specifically put out a request that you be brought in alive." She flashed an oddly tender grin at Alyssa, "She never did specify _how_ alive you needed to be." She turned her back to Alyssa for a moment, returning with what looked like a scalpel and a small red bottle.

When Gabriella dipped the blade in the bottle, she figured out immediately what it was, as the assassin explained, "While each of us tends to be sadistic in our own way, Babette was particularly helpful in extracting information, because she knew a lot about poisons. She knew how to make a certain type of poison that, while it wouldn't kill its victims, it would leave them feeling weakened and in constant pain." She walked up to Alyssa, who realized that she was cuffed to some kind of table, which didn't take a lot of guessing as to what it's purpose was. A cold breeze gave way to realization that she was stark-naked as well.

She did her best to snarl at Gabriella and demanded answers, "So what is it you want from me? Gold? Information? You're not getting anything from me."

Gabriella gently pressed the blade against her arm, making a small cut, "There is nothing you could give us that we don't already know. All we want is for you to suffer." A faint burning sensation caused some mild discomfort for her, but Alyssa had the feeling that this was some kind of lingering poison and she was about to feel much worse once it actually spread. "Consider this to be payback for killing Arnbjorn and Babette, and for breaking Astrid's heart."

"Unimpressed."

Gabriella's grin turned slightly sadistic, "I give you four hours before you are so broken that you would pledge yourself to the Night Mother and Sithis just to make the pain stop." As she said that, Alyssa could feel the burning pain already starting to worsen and spread. A sudden, sharp flare shot down her arm, making her shiver.

"You won't get that pleasure."

Gabriella glanced down Alyssa's body as like a wolf stalking prey, "Then perhaps I should make certain that you can never give or receive pleasure again." Alyssa actually paused for a moment, pondering whether or not Gabriella would actually make good on her threat. She wondered if Gabriella had any business to attend to, but she seemed content to stay in her seat, watching the poison do its work.

* * *

She'd lost track of time at some point, and was in the midst of trying not to crack as the burning sensation spread through her body. She was sweating and shivering, and found herself twitching and spasming. She grunted and struggled against her bonds, but it was in vain. Gabriella was still in her chair, watching as Alyssa struggled to keep herself together. The Khajiit snapped back a pained grunt and glared at Gabriella, "You'll never break me! You... you have no idea who you're dealing with!"

Gabriella yawned, clearly starting to get bored with the whole situation. A sneer appeared on her face as an idea burrowed into her mind, "Perhaps, once you're broken, I'll take you on as a... 'servant.' How ironic that would be, to have a supposed hero with no defined destiny completely subservient to my every whim."

"In your dreams, Ash Spawn. There is nothing you could do that would make me even think about submitting to you." Gabriella stood up and slapped Alyssa, the mere act of such amplified by the burning pain in her body. She hissed at the Dark Elf, who simply rolled her eyes, deciding she did have better things to do. She got up and left the room, opening a door and briefly letting in the light of a small fire pit from beyond, before shutting it and leaving her in near-total darkness.

The silence was deafening, and soon, Alyssa found herself slipping into a relaxed state as she tried to remember what the Greybeards had taught her about meditation, eyes closed, slow, deep breaths, and a clear mind. The burning pain began to fade away and time seemed to pass quickly. She wasn't aware of how much time had passed until she heard a voice that surprised her, "Hello? Is anyone there? Please, tell me you're still alive!" The voice, clearly a Skyrim accent, came from somewhere else in the room.

Three other voices soon followed, one was an elderly woman, "By the Gods, where have they taken us?"

Another was a younger man, "I don't know, but I get the feeling we won't make it out of here alive."

The final voice was a young woman, "Says you! I'm getting out of here one way or another!"

"Hey, Khajiit! Is it true? What that Dark Elf said? About you being Dragonborn? Oh Gods, if they have the Dragonborn here..."

As they spoke, the Dragon in Alyssa's mind had seemed to develop a certain extreme disgust for the Dark Brotherhood, and an idea had appeared in her head out of that disgust, a clear, coherent idea for how she could get out despite the burning pain. One particular Word, which she had learned while searching for the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, which she figured could get her out of these bindings. She hadn't used this word yet, she had a personal preference for using only a completed Thu'um, but this would have to work. She took one last deep breath, then Shouted, " _Feim_!" The world and everything around her seemed to become somehow lesser as she felt the pain, along with the restraints, fade away. Her eyes snapped open and she sat up, her Ethereal form allowing her to phase right out of the restraints. She rolled off the table as all her mortal ailments seemed to disappear and she had, for a few brief moments, an almost-perfect physique. The effects of the Shout faded and feeling returned to her body, and with it a numbness leftover from the burning pain. She collapsed on the floor for a few brief minutes, trying to call up her strength. She managed to open her palm, her Magicka gathering in a brilliant yellow orb of Restoration Magic that she cast on herself. Immediately, she felt her strength return, prompting her to get back onto her feet. The small wound in her arm had closed up, so she began to put her plan in motion.

"Hey? Hey, Khajiit! Was that you? Oh thank the Gods! Come get us out of these shackles if you can." Alyssa squinted her eyes shut for a moment, and when she opened them again, everything she could see was now layered over with a luminescent blue shade. Her Night Eye let her see four other torture victims in the room, and a large Dark Brotherhood banner in the room near the table she herself was shackled to. Much like herself, the other victims were completely nude, and each one bore the telltale signs of the Dark Brotherhood's cruelty. She looked around and saw no key to unlock the shackles, but had an idea as to who had the key.

She looked around and spied an Iron Dagger laying on a shelf by the wall and picked it up. She twitched her fingers, and the healing spell in her other hand changed to an Illusion spell. "There isn't a key I can see, but I think I might know where it is." She charged, then cast a Muffle spell. After that, they couldn't hear her any longer as she crawled along the floor.

The door to the torture chamber clicked and opened, and Gabriella walked in. She paused when she realized she didn't hear struggling, "You're all awfully quiet. We need to change that." There was a pause as Gabriella's footfalls echoed through the quiet room. After a couple seconds, a torch began glowing as she lit up the room. She looked toward the table and it dawned on her that there was a distinctive lack of a struggling Khajiit on the table. Suddenly, a hand appeared from behind her with a Muffle spell primed, followed by an Iron Dagger across her throat. She tried to call out, but not even a gurgling whimper escaped her throat as she realized too late who killed her.

Dropping the Iron Dagger aside, Alyssa reached into Gabriella's pockets and pulled out a key. Following this, she grabbed the lit torch and pulled it out of its sconce. She turned off her Night Eye and wandered through the room to find other unlit torches. After satisfied that the room was well lit, she returned the torch to its sconce and set to work getting the torture victims out of their binds. She approached the first one, a male Nord with black hair, who introduced himself as Alkvar Blackclaw. After releasing him, she moved to the young Nord woman, Ari Sword-Singer. The older Nord woman, Holva the Greater, was more than grateful for being released. The final victim, a male Nord with red hair, Heimvald the Kindred, suggested that they find some way to arm themselves before considering anything else.

It wasn't hard to sneak out of the Torture Chamber, and it didn't take a genius for Alyssa to figure out that they weren't in the Falkreath Sanctuary. It took a bit of exploring and stealth, but the quintet had managed to find a small room filled with a lot of smithing materials and an Anvil for Ari to with with.

* * *

"We may have a bit of a problem." Ari's voice caught the group's attention.

"What's wrong?" Heimvald inquired as he kept glancing toward the door, expecting someone to jump out at them.

"There's only enough Leather here for me to make boots and armor for _four_ of us." Ari shook her head, "We might by in trouble."

Heimvald turned to Alyssa, "Do you want it? I can make do with spells."

Alyssa shook her head, "You'll need it if we're going to get out of here alive."

Holva the Greater shook her head, "You still shouldn't go through here completely naked, dear, especially if we are where I think we are. Give me a few minutes to see if I can find something to make some clothes for you at least."

Holva had, after exploring the room a bit, found some rolls of thick white cloth as well as some basic, unenchanted robes for her to wear. As she helped Alyssa wrap the cloth around her body, she explained that she had overheard two of the Dark Brothers talking about something happening in Dawnstar. Two of the cloth rolls became hand and forearm wrappings for Alyssa, while two more became foot and leg wrappings. As Holva helped wrap another roll of cloth around her chest, Alyssa commented on the situation, "None of you really seemed bothered by the lack of clothing earlier."

Holva finished the sarashi around Alyssa's chest and replied, "We're in a horrible place that a bunch of violent people call their sanctuary, dear. Even your, uh, 'unique' features aren't really as much of a concern as getting out alive." She grabbed one last roll and began wrapping it around her waist, "Could you hold this end down for a moment, dear? Thank you. Now, while I wish we could get you some actual armor, this is as good as we can do for now, but if you change your mind, just let one of us know."

Alyssa glanced down at the loincloth, then back to Holva as she slipped into the robes, "I appreciate the gesture, but for now, I'll stick with this." She held out her hand, letting her Magicka form a teal, cube-like shape that she cast on herself, "Besides, being an adventurer does mean I tend to find a lot of useful spells such as this one."

A teal glow seemed to wrap around her body, and Heimvald recognized it, "Stoneflesh?" Alyssa nodded and he suggested, "If we make it out of this alive, there's a spell I could teach you that I think you might find a bit more protective." He paused and thought about it, "In fact, if we make it out of this alive, while I don't have anything on-hand as a gift, there is a secret stash that I could direct you towards. A little hollowed-out rock near Hollyfrost Farm that you might be interested in."

Alyssa shook her head, "If we make it out of here alive, that alone will be rewarding enough."

Heimvald was insistent however, and when the other three apparently decided to tell her about other hidden treasures as rewards if she gets them out alive, she gave up and accepted it. The group make some final preparations, then prepared to try and sneak out of the Sanctuary.

* * *

"So, Astrid. How are you holding up?" Nazir, having nothing else to do but kill time until dinner time, decided to check in with their leader. Ever since she learned of Arnbjorn's death, while she didn't act like someone else altogether, there were noticeable differences in her behavior, such as her being more accepting and kind to Cicero, enough that she was willing to apparently put aside her doubts when Cicero suggested moving to the Dawnstar Sanctuary, with Festus citing it as more easily defensible and well supplied than their Falkreath Sanctuary, not to mention that the Penitus Oculatus knew the location of the Falkreath Sanctuary and could march on it at any moment.

Astrid was curled up in one of the bed-chambers, having been recently refurnished with some help from Delvin Mallory. She didn't really look at Nazir, but managed to choke out, "I- I really miss him." Nazir wished he could say he understood, but in truth, he knew he didn't understand the loss of Arnbjorn like Astrid did.

He crossed his arms and looked around the place, "I'm surprised you went along with the Jester and his talking corpse on this. The Astrid I know wouldn't let her leadership slip away from her so easily."

He actually flinched when Astrid sat up on the bed, an icy glare that seemed to pierce his soul, and snapped, "The Astrid you know let the power go to her head, and look where it got her! I've lost my husband and two of my Dark Sisters because of it! Because I abandoned the Night Mother and the Five Tenants!" Tears began falling and she calmed down, "I don't want to lose the rest of my Family, and if that means going back to the old ways and letting the Listener lead the Dark Brotherhood, so be it. Now leave me be."

Nazir was surprised to see this sudden emotion from someone he normally knew as cold, distant, controlling, and still as violent as a wolf. For some reason, that comparison led him to wonder if perhaps... He stopped himself before he could go any further. He figured, Astrid would recover eventually, and then things would go back to the way they were supposed to be, when the Dark Brotherhood could operate more freely than this.

As he left the room, he realized that Gabriella, who had left to check on the prisoners, hadn't come back. While he initially assumed that she was sticking around to enjoy the 'sights,' he figured he might let her know that he was going to start cooking soon. He walked down the hallways and to where the Torture Chamber was located, pausing when he noticed the door was open. He stepped into the room and saw lit torches, a lack of prisoners, and Gabriella's corpse on the floor, with a Dark Brotherhood Initiate examining a bloodstained Iron Dagger. "Damn..." He muttered, realizing that they had a big problem.

* * *

It was rather easy to navigate the place, but the path to the front entrance was guarded by Veezara and a new person that Alyssa didn't recognize. The Night Mother's coffin, which was thankfully closed, sat in a corner on the same floor, and Festus was on his knees in front of it, presumably Listening. Alkvar tapped her shoulder, drawing her attention to the stained glass window in the image of Sithis. "I can feel a breeze coming from the other side of this. Holva suggests that it's a cave leading somewhere and I want you to come with us."

Alyssa nodded, "Alright, I'll be ready. I feel that it is going to be very loud when we open the door." She looked around and gestured for them to open the secret passage. The glass depiction began to slide sideways, screeching as it did and attracting the attention of everyone in the Sanctuary. Without a moment to waste, Holva, Alkvar, Ari, and Heimvald passed through the open door as Veezara leaped down to confront the escapees. Alyssa took a single look at him and said, "I don't have time to waste on you... _Fus Ro Dah_!" Veezara was sent flying and Alyssa took the opportunity to run through the secret entrance, then help Ari and Alkvar get it shut before the Dark Brother could follow them.

Alyssa felt icy cold ground beneath her feet, and it wasn't a pleasant sensation, but she looked around and saw the group had already found a way deeper into the cave, with Heimvald leading the way, Candlelight spell in one hand and Sparks in the other. The travel was largely in silence, and they only paused momentarily when they came across a dead troll. After that, Heimvald noticed something in the darkness and switched out his Candlelight spell for a Magelight spell that he cast on the object, revealing a ladder going out of the cave. He turned to the other four Nords, checking in with each one, then to the lone Khajiit, "How are you holding up?"

Alyssa shivered, "Kinda regretting not getting some proper footwear at least, but I'm fine otherwise." She looked up at him, "I guess I should say it. I'm with the Penitus Oculatus. They were trying to protect the Emperor, and recently that duty has extended to destroying the Dark Brotherhood. Once we get out of here, I have some business with them in Dragon Bridge, if any of you would like to tag along?" Ari looked excited about it, and that was apparently all it took for the group to agree to the prospect.

"We'll know where their Sanctuary is located once we escape, which would be vital to stopping them," Ari commented, and the others agreed.

"Then that settles it. To Dragon Bridge."

* * *

The first sight to greet them besides the snowstorm when Holva opened the trapdoor was a familiar road leading to a large town. She helped Alkvar out, then the two of them helped Heimvald and Ari, with Alyssa respectfully declining it and shutting the trapdoor behind them. The group looked out over the town and recognized it, "Dawnstar... We've been under Dawnstar this whole time!"

The sound of a voice drew their attention away from Dawnstar. Alyssa recognized it, and when she turned around, she saw Khayla further up the road, flanked by a small squad of Penitus Oculatus soldiers. The four escapees alongside Alyssa walked ahead of her to meet the soldiers. She took a few steps forward and screamed as an Ebony Dagger plunged into her midriff, before being yanked back out. Behind her, she heard a sadistic giggling, "The cat was too busy playing in the snow, to see death strike her down from below!"

Her vision seemed to blur as the soldiers in front of her descended upon the crazed jester, one of the battlemages impaling him with an Icy Spear. Her ears began ringing and her hands shot to the wound in her midriff in an attempt to try and stop the bleeding. She felt someone catch her as she stumbled and fell forward, and what felt vaguely like the warmth of a healing spell, but it was a mere spark amidst the cold, numbing sensation spreading through her body.

* * *

 _High Hrothgar_...

Wulfgar opened his eyes when he sensed something was wrong. He knew exactly what it was, and he knew he was far from the only one who could sense it. He stood up from the spot he was meditating on and moved into the main hall, where the other Greybeards had gathered. The four made eye contact with one another and that was all the communication they needed for their next course of action. They knew, the Dragonborn was dying, when she still had a prophecy to fulfill. Arngeir closed his eyes, and the other three mirrored his actions. After a moment, as if one mind, all four of them Shouted at once, " _Fiik Lo Sah_!"

 _Outside Dawnstar_...

Khayla looked up as a couple Penitus Oculatus agents drew their swords. Before them stood a spectral figure. The figure was garbed in robes that she hadn't ever seen before. The figure walked up to the group, ignorant of the swords drawn, at least until one of the Nord escapees exclaimed, "It's one of the Greybeards!"

The swords disappeared and the agents moved aside to allow the Spectral Greybeard access to Alyssa and Khayla. Upon seeing the wound, the Greybeard spoke, "Your time isn't up yet, Dragonborn." He paused, then Shouted, " _Nahl Rii Mul_!" An explosion of yellowish light radiated out from where the Greybeard stood, enveloping everyone within a small radius. Everyone within the radius of the Shout felt a sudden surge of warmth and tensions that they didn't know they had were relieved.

When Khayla glanced down at Alyssa, the knife-wound in her gut had healed completely, leaving only stained fur and torn cloth to remind them of it. She glanced up at the Spectral Greybeard with tears of relief and said to him, "Thank you." The Spectral Greybeard only grinned, nodded, and faded away into nothingness.

* * *

It took some time for Alyssa to realize that she wasn't in Hircine's Hunting Grounds or some other afterlife before she finally opened her eyes and looked around. She felt arms wrap around her, followed by Khayla giving her a short kiss. Khayla helped Alyssa into a sitting position, letting her look around. They were in a room at the Windpeak Inn. Commander Maro was standing by the fire pit in the main room of the Inn, sipping a bottle of Honningbrew Mead. She briefly considered getting a bottle, but decided against it.

Commander Maro noticed her right away, "Welcome back to the land of the living." Alyssa passively rubbed the spot on her midriff, currently wrapped up under thick Fur clothes, where she'd been stabbed.

"How did I survive?" She asked.

Khayla answered, "One of the Greybeards, he appeared in like a ghost out of the blue and Shouted the injury closed! It was the most incredible thing I've ever seen!"

"Hm..." Alyssa pondered this for a moment, wondering if perhaps she could learn this Shout.

Maro glanced toward the four escapees, then turned to Alyssa, "I couldn't be more proud to have you as an ally. This is twice now that you've been able to, despite being abducted, prove vital to stopping the Dark Brotherhood. And this time, you've brought back not just the location of a secret entrance into their Dawnstar Sanctuary, but you've rescued four people who were recently reported missing."

Alyssa, curious, decided to ask, "What about the Falkreath Sanctuary?"

"We went to torch it, and they'd already packed up and moved. But, we've got them cornered now, and all that's left to do is to take them out. We're going to march on their Sanctuary tomorrow." He held up a little Jester hat, "We're already one step closer, now that the crazy Jester's been taken care of." He dropped the hat on the floor and muttered aloud, "Seems like they really do accept all kinds of monstrous."

She wasn't sure why, but Alyssa felt like she was having second thoughts about the prospect. Perhaps it was just that she didn't want to deal with the Dark Brotherhood any more. That said, she knew that if she didn't help the Penitus Oculatus stop them, then the threat to the Emperor's life still stood, and they'd keep coming after her, and placing everyone she cared for in greater peril.

She was about to open her mouth when the Inn door opened and in walked none other than Astrid, wearing some basic clothes and what looked like an Amulet of Dibella. She didn't seem armed, but Alyssa wasn't taking any chances, grabbing the nearest available item to use as a weapon. In retrospect, a wooden plate probably didn't seem very intimidating, especially when grabbing said plate sent a perfectly good salmon steak into the floor. However, she didn't have any other weapons with her, and hadn't expected a Dark Sister to dare show herself so openly. Apparently, Alyssa wasn't the only one to recognize Astrid as Commander Maro and two other Penitus Oculatus agents drew their various weapons.

Astrid kept a straight face as she addressed the immediate threat, "Commander Maro. I see you've recovered well."

It took quite a bit of willpower to stop Maro from burying his Steel Battleaxe in Astrid's skull, "No thanks to your damn bloodhounds!"

Astrid held her hands up in apparent surrender, "Now now, dear Commander. I came here unarmed. I'd like to negotiate a trade before your attack dog tries to hurt me with a wooden plate."

Alyssa snarled at her, "Khenarthi help me, I will _eviscerate_ you with a wooden _bowl_ if it comes down to it."

Commander Maro sheathed his weapon, but gestured for the others to keep their weapons out and readied, "Talk fast."

Astrid took a deep breath, "I don't want anymore bloodshed. If I give you the Listener, will you let me and my association live?"

Alyssa lowered the wooden plate, "Commander Maro, even if she keeps up her end of the bargain, the contract on the Emperor is still valid." She glared hard at Astrid, and wanted to Shout her apart, but decided against it and instead opted to say, "And if her organization continues to exist, they'll never stop killing."

She remained steadfast even as Astrid returned her venomous stare. Commander Maro crossed his arms, "No deal. The Listener will still die, but I'm going to bring down the rest of your Dark Brotherhood as well."

Astrid furrowed her eyebrows, "Fine. Sleep well, for tonight will be your last." She kept her eyes on the soldiers as she left the Inn.

* * *

"...Seriously? A wooden plate?" Maro felt like asking after Alyssa got herself into some leather armor to try on.

From behind the door, she replied, "My swords weren't available at the time." She paused as she slipped on a leather boot, "...Alright, so it wasn't my best moment. I'll give you that. But I _hate_ being caught off-guard."

Maro shrugged, "Seems to happen rather frequently with you around."

Alyssa lifted up a leather helmet, trying to decide how she could fit her ears in it, "I'll pretend I didn't hear that." She discarded the helmet when she saw that there was no way that was happening.

She stepped out of the Inn room and Maro asked her, as she fastened her twin Ebony Swords to her belt, "Are you sure you want to go through with this? We could always wait until tomorrow. Because once we strike, there's no turning back."

Alyssa paused for a moment, her tail twitched as she thought long and hard about her next course of action. "Commander, I have friends who are waiting for me." She spared a glance toward Khayla, sitting at one of the tables, nibbling on a piece of salmon, "I have a lover to think about." She turned to Maro and looked him straight in the eyes, "I made a promise to her, and Sithis himself can't keep me from fulfilling it. _I'm_ going to take down the Dark Brotherhood if it means I have to... hunt them down alone." Commander Maro noted her awkward pause, knowing that she was trying to refer to her more wolfish abilities without openly saying so.

He elected to place a hand on her shoulder and tell her, " _You_ don't have to do it alone. I know you're not a soldier anymore, but you'll have myself and the entire Penitus Oculatus at your command for this mission."

Alyssa grinned at Commander Maro. In truth, she worried that if the situation got stressful enough, that she might transform and hurt someone other than her intended targets. She was glad that they were offering their assistance. Her ears perked up as Maro revealed that he knew the location of their main entry, but not the codephrase. "I know where a secret entrance to the Sanctuary is. Since you killed Cicero, we might have the element of surprise. Maybe, if some of the agents were to wait by the Black Door to kill any Dark Brothers who escape, we can trap them in the Sanctuary and finally be rid of the Dark Brotherhood forever."

Maro grinned, "I like it, I'll get a squad ready. You should lead another squad through the secret entrance. And take some torches or oil with you. We're going to burn it down and this time, we're going to make sure we destroy the Night Mother with it."

* * *

"Are you certain that you do not want me along? I have fought off bandits and thieves before." Khayla asked as Alyssa checked her Ebony Swords for dents or scratches. Satisfied and unsurprised to find none, she sheathed the blade, then turned around and gave Khayla a quick peck on the cheek.

"I'll be back before sun-up."

Khayla stood up from her chair and wrapped Alyssa in a hug, "I will hold you to it... I worry about you when you leave like that." Khayla held a bit tighter onto Alyssa, saying to her, "Give them an extra swing of the sword for me." Alyssa gave a small grunt in reply and Khayla let her go, whispering a small prayer to Alkosh for her safe return.

* * *

The last time she was in this tunnel, she was in an uncomfortable position of not having anything comfortably protective to wear, or any weapons beyond the fire spell that she had no practice with beyond a few experimental tests with it, and following four disoriented torture victims out of here. Now, she had armor, weapons, and a squad of trained, highly-effective and versatile soldiers at her temporary command. She was still cautious, not wanting to risk anything unnecessarily on this rather fragile plan of hers.

She soon recognized the stained glass window depicting Sithis in his chaotic, skeleton-like form, the secret door to the Sanctuary. She looked back at her squad, "We have one shot at making this work. If even a single Dark Brother escapes us and the squad at the main entrance, they will be practically uncatchable." She checked around to be certain. It seemed as though none of the Dark Brotherhood had thought to check this tunnel. She could only guess that it was because they were in the process of preparing for the next step of their plan to assassinate the Emperor. "This door will make a lot of noise, so we lose the element of surprise. Get ready for the attack."

The soldiers proceeded to draw their swords or ready spells as she began pushing against the stained glass window, causing a loud screeching sound to echo throughout the cave, and no doubt the Sanctuary as well. As soon as Alyssa opened the door wide enough, she stepped through, with agents close behind her. They were immediately beset upon by a Dark Brotherhood Initiate. The Initiate drew a Steel Dagger and leaped at Alyssa, who just had enough time to draw one of her swords and parry the blow. She charged at the Initiate, drawing her other Ebony Sword and break right through the Initiate's defenses, driving both blades right through her stomach. She yanked her blades from from the Initiate's body and left her to crumple to the ground, dead.

Stealth had been thrown out the window the instant that door had opened, for the Penitus Oculatus at least. Not long after the first Initiate was slain, a second one tried to get the drop on one of the Spellswords, only for one of the others with a Detect Life spell active to see the incoming attack and surprise Veezara with a dual-cast Firebolt that struck him in the chest, which let the Spellsword he had intended to kill stab him with a Steel Sword.

"Alright, that just leaves Astrid, Nazir, Festus, any remaining Initiates, and the Night Mother," Alyssa muttered to herself. She heard footsteps, turned toward one dark corner, and Shouted, " _Fus_!" A weak wave of kinetic energy struck a second Initiate who had been hiding in the corner, stumbling him. She followed through with a slash to the leg, forcing him onto his knees. She crossed her swords around his neck, and drew them across his neck, tearing through flesh. The Initiate's head rolled on the floor as she stepped back and turned to the rest of her squad, "Spread out, search the area, kill any Dark Brother you find!"

Alyssa went down the hallway she remembered, keeping her swords out and readied just in case. As she walked through the hallway, she heard a noise behind her and whirled around to block an incoming strike from Nazir's scimitar. "Been a while, Dragonborn."

Alyssa shoved him back and swung her left sword, nicking him in the arm, "Likewise." She leaped and swung her right sword for an overhead strike that Nazir blocked. "Who payed you to kill me? Hm? Stormcloak? Thalmor?"

Nazir sneered, "It's not my business to talk about my clients."

Alyssa jabbed at him, tearing through his cape in an attempt to aim for his chest. She followed the jab with a whirlwind of sword swings with the full fury of her Dragon-self. Most of her swings missed, and Nazir took the chance to jab at her, and she barely had time to block the blade before it dug into her shoulder somewhat. She felt a sudden pain and observed a purple fog with particles of the same colors flying out of her body and into his. She ducked and swiped at him. As he dodged and backed up, she took a moment to check the cut in her shoulder. It wasn't a large wound, he had only nicked her, but it was obvious that his sword was enchanted in a way she had never seen before.

She decided to try something that she knew he couldn't block, " _Krii Lun Aus_!" He was struck by the purple wave of energy and runes in Dovahzul immediately appeared all over him. Nazir began to lose focus on the fight as the runes began to take effect, wreaking havoc internally and causing immense pain. He dropped his sword and fell to the ground, gasping for air as the magic constricted his throat. Alyssa picked up his discarded Scimitar, observing the purple, glowing runes, "If you won't tell me, I'll find someone who will." She grabbed his forehead and held him upright, before driving his sword into his chest. There was a sense of strength returning throughout her body, both magical and vital, as she noticed the purple fog and particles fly from his body into hers.

She yanked the Scimitar out of his body and stopped for a moment. It suddenly dawned upon her that she wasn't normally this furious. She wasn't certain why, but the sudden brutality of her fighting since she came into the Dawnstar Sanctuary was finally catching up to her, and it scared her. It didn't make much sense to her, as she had fought and killed before, but something about Nazir's death struck her as oddly terrifying. She then realized why, it was because she had no idea she was capable of being so violent. She held up the Scimitar, seeing her reflection in the curved steel, and wondered to herself, _What am I becoming_?

She shook those thoughts away for the time being and fastened the Scimitar to her belt. _Only three left_ , she thought to herself, and continued down the hallway. Astrid walked out of the shadows and into plain view, "So, we meet again."

"You're not walking away from this fight, especially after threatening Khayla."

Astrid took note of the Scimitar on her belt, "I see you've claimed Soulscythe as your own. Nazir's dead then?"

Alyssa held up her Ebony Swords in an attack stance, "Yes. Now fight me, dammit!"

Astrid unhooked the sheath holding her Blade of Woe, dropped it onto the ground, and kicked it toward Alyssa, "At this point, it'll be easier if you just end it for me."

Alyssa paused, "...What?"

Astrid have her a sneer, "What's wrong? Were you not expecting this?" The sneer faded and Astrid held her arms out, as if to make herself as big a target as possible, "My death is what you want. All I want is to be reunited with my Family in the Void."

Alyssa glanced behind her, expecting it to be a trap, to see Festus readying a spell to cause her unimaginable pain. Instead, just an empty hallway. She turned back to Astrid and picked up the Blade of Woe, prompting Astrid to say, "Whatever you decide to do, send Delvin Mallory my regards."

Alyssa briefly analyzed the dagger, noting the blade's enchantment. She turned to Astrid and attached the dagger to her belt, opting instead for her Ebony Swords, "Then I'll make it quick." She lunged forward and stabbed one blade through Astrid's chest.

Tears of joy fell from Astrid's eyes as she turned to meet Alyssa's, "Thank you." After that, she pulled the blade out.

* * *

She searched the area after pocketing the Blade of Woe, and soon came back to the first floor, just in time to see a couple Penitus Oculatus Agents execute Festus Krex, while a third one was dumping a barrel of oil on the Night Mother's corpse. His corpse fell down in front of the Night Mother's open coffin, and when Alyssa saw the disheveled corpse, she felt only anger, "Let's just get this over with. I don't want to be in this place any longer." One of the Penitus Oculatus agents held up a torch, walked up to the Night Mother's coffin, and dropped the torch at the Night Mother's feet. The corpse caught fire and was soon a blazing inferno. For a moment as the Penitus Oculatus, Alyssa among them, left the Dawnstar Sanctuary, they could have sworn that, somewhere in the back of their minds, they could hear a vague psychic scream of agony.

* * *

A/N

→ I mentioned something about there being multiple Dragonborns because of a theory of mine, they won't appear until after the Penitus Oculatus Quest-line is resolved, which it is now.

→ I played the Dark Brotherhood quest-line and met the Torture Victims, and decided to feature them in the Penitus Oculatus quest-line and expand a bit on them, by giving them names and roles.

→ Toying with some more Shouts in this chapter. I had an idea based on a wild theory I had heard once about how the Dragonborn returns to life every time they die (like every single time I've misjudged the height of a fall or fell off of something by accident, dammit). I had an idea that the Greybeards can use their Spectral Clone Shout to witness events beyond High Hrothgar, but it takes all four of them Shouting to achieve something like that. Dragons can use this Shout as well, to attack from two sides briefly, as well as perform other actions without needed to be physically present for some reason or another.

→ I also devised one of my own Shouts: (Living, Essence, Strength). Because I'm a little crazy and wanted to know why there isn't a Shout for the Restoration school of magic when there are many for Illusion (Dismay, Kyne's Peace), Alteration (Slow Time), Destruction (Fire Breath, need I say more), Conjuration (Call of Valor, Soul Tear), and even _Enchanting_ (Elemental Fury).

→ And finally, a unique Scimitar for Nazir, because I felt that he, and most of the Dark Brotherhood, would probably have a powerful enchanted weapon. This Scimitar, I call it Soulscythe, has the following effects if it were an in-game weapon: (Drain Health) 25 points, (Drain Stamina) 25 points, (Drain Magicka) 25 points, (Soul Trap) 5 seconds.


	9. Blades, Morals, & Revelations

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. Original Content © Me.

* * *

One-shot #3: "Blades, Morals, and Revelations"

* * *

"Well, that was uneventful..." Alyssa muttered to herself as she walked off the bridge that led to the College of Winterhold. Now that she finally had some time to, she found the time to stop by the College and deliver Soulscythe to their resident enchanter to look at. In the meantime, she had a Name to learn, and trusted that the Blades might be able to help her out.

* * *

Khayla, who had insisted on coming along, took note of Alyssa's quiet pondering during their carriage ride. After having ridden on horseback all the way to Windhelm, Alyssa made the decision to leave their horses in the stables, then take the carriage to Markarth in order to get to Karthspire, where Sky Haven Temple awaited. "You seem quieter than usual. Is something the matter?"

Alyssa's ears twitched and she met Khayla's gaze. "Well, nothing is wrong, if that's what you mean." She paused, before adding, "Beyond what's already wrong."

Khayla frowned, "You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. We will figure this out, like I promised."

Alyssa sighed, "While I was in the Temple of Kynareth, recovering from... you know... I had a dream. I dreamed that I was a kitten again, and my mother, S'Raza, addressed me by a name I don't remember before now." She noticed Khayla perk up at the notion and continued, "She called me 'Raksha.' My father then came into the room and mentioned fleeing from the Thalmor, and that Ri'saad was supposed to help get them close to the border of Elsweyr."

Khayla cocked her head to the side, "Interesting. Ri'saad has never mentioned anything about helping refugees prior to his life as a trade caravaner." She crossed her legs, "Do you think he knows something about your parents?"

Alyssa nodded, "Perhaps the name of my Khajiit father. If I could get that, then I might finally have a name for his face." She felt a yawn coming and muttered, "Wake me when we get there, okay?" Khayla nodded, and with that, she fell asleep.

* * *

Delphine and Esbern weren't in the main hall when Khayla and Alyssa arrived in Sky Haven Temple. They spent some time searching around, with the only sounds beyond their faint breathing in the temple being the _clink-clank_ of Khayla's Ebony armor, which Alyssa had given her when she found a more comfortable suit of Leather armor. At the moment, one of the Ebony swords that Alyssa had used was now fastened to Khayla's belt, and Alyssa had wanted to make another sword when she got the chance. In the meantime, the two of them had other things on their mind.

Delphine and Esbern turned out to be in the courtyard, with the latter talking to the former about a nightmare he'd had. Khayla hung out near the entrance while Alyssa went to go talk to them. She did wait to listen to Esbern's dream, fairly certain that the two Blades hadn't noticed her presence yet. When Esbern finished talking about his nightmare, Delphine offered some assurance to the older mage, then promptly turned and met Alyssa's wandering eyes with a firm and sudden glare, "Dragonborn. There's something we need to discuss."

Alyssa was a bit surprised to see such a sudden change in Delphine's tone as the acting Grandmaster approached her. She crossed her arms and spoke, "We know about Paarthurnax."

"You know... what?"

Delphine only seemed to get more stern, "Paarthurnax was one of Alduin's generals during the Dragon War. The old Blades weren't able to get close to him because the Greybeards have been protecting him. He may have betrayed Alduin in the end, but he still needs to pay for his crimes." Delphine seemed to show a hint of remorse, "And, I'm sorry, but my oath as a Blade binds me, and until you kill Paarthurnax, we can't help you, Dragonborn."

She couldn't believe what the Blades were asking of her. It felt like she had been stabbed in the heart, but instead of sadness or fear, she only felt anger. It took her a moment to realize that the reason Delphine's hand had drifted over her sword was because she was audibly growling. She yelled, "You want me to kill someone who has done me no wrong?! Never mind that he's been nothing short of completely helpful and supportive while all you've done is sit on your asses stalking me like Gods-damned vampires!" She grabbed Delphine by her neck and pulled the Grandmaster down to her face, snarling, "You want Paarthurnax to die? Do it your damn self! I won't be ordered around like some random soldier any longer!"

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Esbern, who muttered, "Dragonborn, please calm down before you bring the whole mountain down on top of us."

She finally picked up on the faint rumbling and looked around, seeing Khayla regaining her balance. Sighing, she released Delphine and turned to face Esbern, "Esbern, you seem reasonable, can you tell me why Delphine seems to think Paarthurnax deserves to die?"

"I am sorry to disappoint you, as I feel the same way about Paarthurnax. Unfortunately, most of the records on what Paarthurnax has done were lost. However, what little remains details some truly horrendous acts that he committed in Alduin's name. You're welcome to look at the records, whatever remains."

Delphine scoffed, "I have half a mind to say no after that temper tantrum of yours, Dragonborn. I'll give you one hour to go through the Blades' records, after that, you aren't welcome in Sky Haven Temple."

Alyssa growled somewhat, then turned to Delphine, "Irileth had no problem with fighting a Dragon. Forgive me if I don't see the logic in you being terrified of one Dragon despite you representing a supposed organization of Dragonslayers." She barred her teeth as she spoke, "Or is it actually that you're afraid of the _Greybeards_? Masters of the Thu'um who could easily Shout you into Aetherius, despite the fact that they present no threat whatsoever? You could kill that Dragon easily, but you won't risk angering the Greybeards, unless they were out of the picture." She knew she wasn't thinking clearly at this point, it was the Dragon talking now, "What happens when there are no more Dragons left? The only source of Dragon blood after that is the Khajiit standing in front of you. Do you hunt me down for the crime of simply having the soul of a Dovah? What about Akatosh? He is the father of all Dragons as well as the God of Time. Do you campaign against the God of Time for being a Dragon? Where does your job end and your hatred begin, I wonder?"

Delphine's brow furrowed, "That's too far, Dragonborn. You are no longer welcome here."

* * *

The now abandoned Forsworn encampment did serve as a half-decent place to rest while Alyssa found the time to recover from her outburst. She lay on one of the hay piles, while Khayla kept an eye on the sky and their surroundings. Khayla glanced up at the cave entrance, then to Alyssa, curled up with quiet, shaky breath. As of recent, Alyssa had confided in her that she was worried that being a Werewolf was wreaking havoc on her mind, and she was worried that for a moment there, she worried that she'd let that wolf out on Esbern and Delphine.

By the time they got moving again, they had taken a carriage from Markarth to Riften, then left on horseback to Ivarstead and the Seven Thousand Steps. Alyssa had explained to Khayla along the way who Paarthurnax was, and that briefly turned into a discussion about Dragon Names, Words of Power, and Shouts. Once they reached High Hrothgar, Alyssa invited Khayla to come in with her.

Once they were inside High Hrothgar, Alyssa encouraged Khayla to rest while she went to search for Arngeir. The Greybeard in question was meditating, and as soon as she walked around the corner, he stood up, somehow knowing she was there, "Dragonborn."

"Arngeir, you were right about the Blades."

The Greybeard didn't seem very surprised, "I did warn you. The Blades may say they serve the Dragonborn, but they will use you as a weapon."

"Arngeir, they want me to kill Paarthurnax."

That surprised him. He commented on it, "It is exactly what I feared. Those barbarians would see genocide against every Dragon simply for being such." He fixed her up with a stern gaze, as if to ask that one question.

"No, it's okay, I won't do it."

Arngeir grinned, "Kynareth bestowed the gift of wisdom upon you, Dragonborn. You still travel down the path of wisdom. Don't let the Blades turn you away from that path."

Alyssa paused, "Actually, I must know though. What _did_ Paarthurnax do that has the Blades so angry at him?"

Arngeir's grin faded into confusion, "Unfortunately, I'm not the best person to ask. That is Paarthurnax's past, and if he feels he must share it, then that is his decision. You are free to ask, however."

* * *

The Throat of the World was as cold as ever. Ever since she had Shouted the barrier away, the winds seemed tolerably cold even though it still blew right through her. She still trudged her way through the snow up the mountain, reaching the top of the mountain and walking past the distortion known as the Time Wound. Paarthurnax signaled his arrival with a roar, followed by a careful, graceful landing on the old stone monument. "Drem Yol Lok. Greetings, Dovahkiin."

That relaxed, almost cheerful tone in the old Dragon's voice made Alyssa hesitate. She didn't want to spoil his good mood, but she felt the need to ask about it. "Paarthurnax. The Blades seem to think you deserve to die."

She couldn't read the facial expressions of a Dragon very easily, but she was fairly certain that he was frowning, "Hm... The Blades are wise not to trust me. For I am a Dovah, and I was made to dominate. That very nature I have struggled long to overcome only through intense meditation and seclusion. Surely you feel it as well, the urge to dominate and destroy? Allow me to ask this of you. Is it better to be born good, or to overcome your evil nature?"

Alyssa paused, trying to think of an answer to that question. She pushed it aside for now and asked him, "Paarthurnax. That can't be the only reason. They say that you were one of Alduin's generals during the Dragon War, and that you deserve to die because you haven't paid for your crimes. But what I wish to know is, 'What crimes?'" She walked up to him as he crawled off the Word Wall to move closer to her level, "What did you do during the Dragon War that has the Blades demanding me for your head?"

Paarthurnax seemed quite depressed by the question, "If I tell you, then you will have to decide whether to forgive me as the Ancient Nord Heroes did, or slay me as the Blades wish for you to. Whatever decision you make, I will not hold it against you, but should you decide that I must die, know that I won't fight back. I have lived for a very long time, and whether I live or die now won't change anything. Alduin will still roam the skies of Aetherius or Tamriel, and your quest will still be to defeat him." He brushed a wing against the ground, clearing a patch of snow, "Please, sit down, Dovahkiin. There is much that I have to say."

* * *

After Paarthurnax had finished telling his story, Alyssa was left surprised. Even if he was one of the Dov, Alyssa had a horribly difficult time trying to picture Paarthurnax as a Cruel and Ambitious Overlord. Paarthurnax seemed to acknowledge her dismay, "Now you understand how far I have come since then, and you must understand now that you have a choice. Will you forgive me for crimes committed long ago, or will you see justice delivered on an old warlord?"

Alyssa took some time to think about the answer she'd give. "...All that... All those things were... They were all before my time. I simply can't bring myself to hate you for things that happened so far in the past, that I've never experienced. I have no experience with those events of the past beyond what the Elder Scroll has shown me in the Time Wound." She placed a hand on the elder Dragon's nose, "Had I known that Paarthurnax, things might have been different, but I'm greatly honored to have met you instead."

Paarthurnax seemed to smile at her revelation, "I too am honored to have known you in this era. It pains me greatly to think that we could have been bitter enemies."

She grinned at him, "For what it's worth, I appreciate that you shared all this with me. I suppose it's given me a new appreciation for the Way of the Voice." Her grin faded, "I am sorry for putting you through all this."

Paarthurnax shrugged his wing, gesturing for her to take shelter as the winds and snow started to pick up. She took up on his offer and sat down under his wing. He glanced at her and replied, "You didn't force me to do anything. In fact, I think it is a sign of trust when one is willing to speak to another about that which they have kept hidden from others."

Alyssa yawned, then excused herself, "Sorry, I guess all the stuff leading up to this has kinda taken its toll on me."

"I expect such from a Mun-Sunvaar."

Alyssa raised an eyebrow, "Forgive me, but what does that mean?"

Paarthurnax had to be smiling now, "It means 'man-beast' in your tongue. It is the name used for the Joore who are said to take the form of a Grohliik under the Moons."

It didn't take much to realize that he was referring to her Lycanthropy. No doubt, he must've smelled it on her. "I've been searching for a cure. As much as I'm afraid of what might happen, I think I might visit the Hall of the Vigilant. I feel that the Vigilants of Stendarr, or at least Keeper Carcette might know how or be willing to help me out." She felt the elder tense up, "Paarthurnax? What's wrong?"

She looked around, and horror dawned upon her when she saw an all-too-familiar Breton, holding a Hunting bow with a readied arrow. "Dragonborn, move."

Alyssa flew to her feet, drawing her sword, "Delphine, how did you get past the Greybeards?"

"You said it yourself, the Greybeards present no threat whatsoever. Now move."

"And what of Khayla? If you so much as touched her-"

"That Khajiit has no reason to be involved." Delphine pulled back the arrow, "Last chance, Dragonborn. Move."

Alyssa raised her blade, "You'll just have to kill me, then."

Delphine's brow furrowed, "I never said I would kill you, but if you don't move now, I'll be forced to find alternative methods to ensure your continued aid, Dragonborn."

Her anger flared, "I have a _name_! My name is Alyssa!" She raised her blade, "You don't control me. No-one does." She charged at Delphine, sword raised. Delphine, not expecting the sudden attack, accidentally released the arrow, sending it right into Alyssa's midriff.

Alyssa froze as a sudden, near instant icy pain that began spreading out from the arrow wound, along with an instant numbness that followed. She tried to swing the sword, but her hands weren't steady anymore, and the Ebony Sword fell out of her hands, followed by her knees giving out. She coughed up blood, then sucked in a deep breath and flashed a glare at Delphine, "What did you do?"

Delphine recovered from her shock and began fumbling through her pack, "You damn idiot! That was a special poison mixed from Jarrin Root! It was difficult enough to get the Jarrin Root, but you've made me waste it!" She realized that, to her dismay, she didn't have a Potion of Cure Poison. Alyssa couldn't focus her Magicka into a healing spell, her strength had disappeared so fast, and a cold, numbing sensation seeped into every fiber of her being.

Delphine was promptly swatted away by a large, grey wing, which proceeded to carefully scoop up Alyssa. Her eyelids felt heavy as she looked up to meet Paarthurnax's gaze. The Elder Dragon inhaled a deep breath, before Shouting down onto her, " _Nahl Rii Mul_!" The yellowish wave of magic that erupted from his open maw bathed Alyssa in golden healing light. The icy numbness was replaced slowly by a gentle warmth as the poison in her body disappeared.

This gentle warmth brought her back from the brink, and she almost instantly felt a renewed vigor surge through her body as the Thu'um's effects took hold, strengthening her body and soul. She got back onto her feet and lunged for her Ebony Sword. She held her sword by her side as she stalked over toward where Delphine lay. Delphine had just begun recovering from Paarthurnax's slap; she held her head as she pushed herself onto her knees. She felt the cold metal of Ebony brush against her neck, prompting her to look at it's wielder. Her expression became hardened and cold, "You'd side with a tyrant over your own allies?"

"I feel that he's already atoned for his crimes. And last I checked, the Blades don't try to poison the Dragonborn just because they have friends and allies outside of their little military cult." That felt really good to say, Alyssa decided. She was fairly certain that the Blades weren't actually any sort of cult, given their previous history with protecting the Emperor, and before that the Dragonborn. However, this time, she finally got the chance to give Delphine a piece of her mind, "I'm not going to kill you. But, if you want me to so much as remotely consider keeping you and Esbern as acquaintances instead of enemies, then you _will_ go right down to the monastery, march up to the Greybeards and apologize for being a stuck-up ass to them _and_ for trying to kill their master. If not, then you can take your sword and shove it." _That_ definitely felt good, Alyssa knew it had to be the Dragon part of her mind, reveling in the irony of controlling a control-freak.

Delphine looked actually terrified of her at the moment. That moment was followed by a resigned groan, "Alright, you win, Dragonborn. We'll leave Paarthurnax and the Greybeards alone."

She drew her sword away and let Delphine stand up. She kept her sword out to show Delphine that she wasn't going to take any more nonsense from her. Delphine got the message, retrieving her bow as she turned to leave. The familiar thudding of Paarthurnax crawling toward her prompted her to sheath her sword as the Elder spoke, "Do you feel that it was wise to spare her?"

Alyssa looked down at the ground, "...I'm not sure. She has what she feels are valid reasons for what she did. I'll confess I'm a bit concerned that she may try again."

"Perhaps she might. However, I will ask a question before you leave. Did you enjoy asserting your dominance?"

Alyssa turned and uttered a flat, "What?"

Paarthurnax had a look much like the look on a father's face when scolding his child, "Recall that I spoke of the instinctual dominance of the Dovah. Take care that you do not let that power go to your head, Dovahkiin, lest Alduin become the least of your concerns."

Alyssa found herself so desperately wanting to know what he meant, but her thoughts kept drifting back to her show of authority over Delphine. _Is_ that _what he is referring too_? She kept her thoughts to herself, asking, "I actually came up here for a different reason, a couple actually. Could you teach me that healing Shout? And could you help me with a Dragon Name?"

* * *

The Greybeards were meditating in various parts of the monastery when Alyssa returned, and Khayla was on her knees in the main room, hands resting on her legs, apparently in deep meditation. Alyssa walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Khayla met Alyssa's gaze, "The Greybeards were looking for you."

Alyssa gave her a small grin, "I'll go see what they need in a moment. You meditating?"

Khayla nodded, "I have figured that it would help to clear my mind."

"That Blade didn't hurt you or threaten you, did she?"

"No, and even if she had tried, she wouldn't get very far." She gestured for Alyssa to go find the Greybeards.

Alyssa found Arngeir meditating as well, and when she approached him, he looked up at her, "It's a relief to see you alive, Dragonborn. Is Paarthurnax...?"

"Paarthurnax still lives, I saw to that. Did Delphine try anything when she came here?"

Arngeir frowned, "We were unaware that she had managed to sneak through here the first time she had arrived. When we heard Paarthurnax's Soul Mend Shout, we didn't think much of it. We assumed that he was teaching you his Shout. When Delphine came through again, she looked as though she had seen a Dremora, and she was very quick to apologize for a lot of things. We were highly suspicious, but she seemed honest enough."

Alyssa's ears flattened, "I'm truly sorry. I had no idea she would go that far." She paused and realized something, "Wait, Paarthurnax invented Soul Mend?"

Arngeir nodded, "He created that Shout some time after making a home of the Throat of the World. He had hoped that it would help him to atone for what he had done during the Dragon War." Arngeir grinned, "I presume that he taught you the Shout?" She nodded.

She walked back out to the main room to greet Khayla, "Come, we shall return to Whiterun. I have some business to take care of."

* * *

A/N

→ This isn't how _I_ think that the whole ordeal with Paarthurnax _should_ have gone, but I just kinda wish that there had been a lot more elaboration on what Paarthurnax had done during the Dragon War, so this is my take on such.

→ This takes place around a couple weeks after the end of the Penitus Oculatus quest-line. I had planned for Alyssa to take Soulscythe to the College of Winterhold at some point, and my original plan was for her to meet another character who'll become important later on. He'll still make an appearance and be important to future events, but I've got a different introduction planned for him.

→ Alas, it was Paarthurnax who invented Soul Mend (I finally though of a name for that Restoration Shout!). Soul Mend, if it were an in-game Shout, I imagine it having the following effects: "Allies struck with this Shout instantly heal their wounds and become more resistant to physical and magical attacks for a brief while (Fully Restore Health [1 Word], +50% Magic Resistance for 30 Seconds, +50 Armor rating for 30 seconds [2 Words], +50% Health Regeneration, Health Increased by 50 points for 30 seconds [3 Words])." Soul Mend is an area-of-effect Shout, meaning it affects all allies.


	10. Lend a Hand

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. Original Content © Me.

* * *

One-shot #3: "Lend a Hand"

* * *

One learns the best ways to keep secrets quickest when one is in the company of those who like to discover secrets. For Merandil Chaeal, this consisted of only fleeting words and hidden trinkets that his 'friends' would never find, lest they kill him for violating the terms of the White-Gold Concordant.

Back when he was a young Elf living on the Summerset Isles, he had heard of the Aldmeri Dominion, but didn't give them much thought, at least not until after the Oblivion Crisis. He was barely in his first century as an adult by then, and after hearing about the heroic exploits of the Thalmor, he was inspired. He couldn't afford it at the moment, however, as he was just a farmer at the time, with at best a novice-level control over a simple Flame spell. However, two Justiciars had approached him, some time after the Great War, with the offer to join, telling him that he'd get to travel the world, master all sorts of magic, and experience new cultures. Most of his time with the Aldmeri Dominion after he started was spent mastering Destruction Magic, and that was when he began hearing things. Not in the sense that he was going insane, more like he'd begun hearing disturbing rumors from some of his childhood friends, all related to the Dominion; Whispers that the Dominion was responsible for the disappearance of Masser and Secunda and for inciting chaos in Elsweyr, or for suppressing the worship of the deities of Man in the province of Skyrim. When he was promoted to Justiciar and sent to Skyrim, he realized then that the rumors were more than true, as he discovered firsthand the sadistic treatment of the Nords of Skyrim.

 _Hmph, if only I had known that when they said 'experience other cultures with us,' they meant 'help us eradicate all other cultures and races so that we could become gods,'_ Merandil thought to himself as he walked down the brick road to Whiterun, with his two armored enforcers trailing behind him with some poor Nord who's only crime was worshiping a god other than what the Altmer demanded. He heard a yell, along with one of the enforcer's voices yelling, "Get back on your feet, prisoner!"

He glanced behind him and realized that his allies were lagging behind him, and began searching his surroundings. He had this plan in place for a while now, after meeting a certain Priest of Arkay down in Falkreath, back when the Civil War was still in full-swing. Sure enough, there were a couple Nords, wandering down the path toward him. He walked briskly toward the duo, the first of whom took notice of him immediately. The Nord growled at him, "What do you want, Elf?"

One thing that being with the Thalmor had taught him was charisma, intimidation, bribery, and deception, and as much as he hated lying, he felt it was necessary in this case, "I'm an agent of the Imperial Legion. I've been working undercover in the Aldmeri Dominion since the Great War, and I need your help."

The Nord crossed his arms, "What makes you think I'll believe that?"

Merandil reached into his satchel and pulled out a small coin purse, "If you don't believe me, then listen at least." He tossed the coin purse to the Nord, who caught it and opened the bag to look inside. Content that he was serious, the Nord put the coin purse away as Merandil continued, "The man that my... 'colleagues' are escorting is about to be taken to an abandoned prison in the middle of nowhere to be tortured for the sole reason of believing in Talos."

The Nord raised an eyebrow, "Why would you care what happens to him?"

Merandil checked to see the Justiciars walking up to meet him and leaned in closer, "Because I too worship Nine Divines." As they walked up to him, he whispered, "Just play along."

The Nord flashed a confused look as Merandil put on his most convincing 'snobby Elf' attitude, "I said you're interfering with official Thalmor business, now leave."

The two Justiciars behind him tensed up and one of them drew a sword. He felt himself tense up a bit as the Nord, doing as he said, growled out, "Answer my question, what has that man done?"

"He's committed the heretical crime of worshiping Talos. We're taking him to be interrogated. Now, be on your way." He paused, "Unless there's something you'd like to confess?"

The Nord drew his weapon, "I can worship whatever Gods I want!"

As he had hoped they would, one of the Justiciars behind him butted in, "Incorrect. You may be allowed to worship any of the Divines, but worshiping a man is not only banned by the White-Gold Concordant, but it is also morally wrong. You are a heretic, and so you-" At that point, Merandil backed up, one hand outstretched to push the Thalmor forward. She tumbled, prompting the other Thalmor to turn in shock as he flipped around and in one swift motion, cut the prisoner's bonds, then pushed an Elven dagger into his hands. The two Nords wasted no time disposing of his now ex-cohorts.

The Prisoner could only fumble with his words, "I... I don't know what say... Thank you, but... but why betray your allies like that?"

Merandil pulled down his hood, letting the three Nords see his face, "Honestly, I'm not actually an undercover agent, just a disillusioned one. If you want a reason why I'm doing this, speak to Runil in Falkreath. His story might give you an idea of why I'm doing this."

The Nord turned to his friend, "Torvar, I want you to help this man out. I want to talk to the Elf for a moment."

Merandil couldn't help but glance at his former companions, wishing that it didn't have to turn out like this. Such an open defiance wouldn't go unnoticed surely. His eyes met the Nord's and he introduced himself, "Deepest apologies. I don't believe we've been properly introduced."

"We haven't. I'm almost content to keep it that way."

"I'm Merandil Chaeal. Thal-" He coughed, " _Former_ Thalmor Justiciar. And you are?" Merandil held out his hand as a show of good intent.

"Fultheim the Fearless, though you can call me Fultheim. I'm the newest member of the Circle. Now, I have things to do on behalf of the Harbinger, so I'll make this quick." Merandil didn't expect the punch to the face that followed.

He recoiled and rubbed his nose. He turned and flashed a glare at Fultheim, "What was that for?!"

Fultheim didn't show any fear, "I don't like being lied to and I don't like the Thalmor. Now, before I leave, I wanna know why you're really here, and talk fast."

Merandil rubbed his nose, "Alright, I can see that clearly I haven't made a good first impression. And since you've asked nicely," he glared back at Fultheim, "I'll tell you. I joined the Aldmeri Dominion because I was desperate. I wanted to learn magic and they offered. They never said anything about hunting down Talos-worshipers or conscripting Khajiits and Bosmers or anything like that, and I wasn't made aware of this until they promoted me to Justiciar and sent me off to Skyrim with those exact orders." He reached into his robe and pulled out a copy of his mission statement, "If you're brave enough or idiotic enough, you can check with any passing patrol and they'll tell you that it's genuine." He held it out for Fultheim to take, "This isn't what I want to be known for. I want to be a good person, not a killer or a monster."

Fultheim looked up at Merandil, "What do you think _I_ can do about it?"

Merandil paused, realizing he himself hadn't really thought that far. He'd put so much thought and effort into getting away from the Thalmor that, in some cruelly ironic twist, he hadn't actually thought about what he'd do afterwards. "Um... Uh..." He groaned and sat down, "I... I'll think of something."

Fultheim softened up, "Hey, calm down." He got on one knee, "You said you were looking for magic tutoring, right? Well, if you're still interested, I can point you in the direction of the College of Winterhold."

Merandil looked up, "College? That's fantastic!" He got back to his feet, "I'll need a more appropriate outfit. You wouldn't happen to know where...?"

Fultheim nodded, "Belethor's General Goods. Though you might want to change into something a bit less obvious if you're gonna go into the city."

Merandil realized this quickly, and his gaze drifted over to his fallen comrades, and he wondered if perhaps it would be a good idea. He shook his head, "I'll think of something."

"You say that a lot, don't you?"

"...Maybe."

* * *

Fultheim was apparently feeling generous, as he lent Merandil a spare shirt and pants, with the expectation that he'd bring them back, "but _not_ as a pile of ashes!"

Whiterun had a rather homely feel to it, despite its simpler buildings. As he walked by, Merandil was greeted mostly with friendly grins and pleasant greetings, until he bumped into someone. He moved to apologize, and the instant his eyes met with the Khajiit's, there was an odd sensation in his mind, like an ancient memory resurfacing, but somehow new. He felt an odd, instinctual urge to test her strength in battle, using his _voice_? He felt like this was supposed to be how he greeted her. He shook these strange thoughts from his head when he noticed that the Khajiit waving her hand to get his attention, "Sir, is everything alright?"

He managed a small grin, "Yes, it's alright. I just felt a little odd for a moment there."

"You look pale. Perhaps a visit to the Temple is in order?"

Merandil took a deep breath, "Maybe later. I have some... I have things to do." He wasn't certain why he wanted to get away from her, but there was something odd that bugged him. In the meantime, he had a few outfits to purchase, since his old Thalmor robes weren't going to do any good for him.

* * *

A/N

→ And so, a new character is introduced. Meet, Merandil Chaeal, an aspiring Altmer Mage who just ends up in the wrong place at the wrong time, given that he fell in league with the Aldmeri Dominion, despite this chapter being about him getting away from it. He has since become an Expert Destruction Mage and is seeking to expand his horizons, or he would be if the Thalmor don't catch onto his trail immediately.

→ I've never actually played as an Altmer before, all my characters have been Khajiits. However, I admit that a number of things, such as Runil, inspired me to try my luck at an Altmer character.

→ And Headcanon time! I mentioned an idea about multiple Dragonborns, and I ended up toying with that idea. Under the circumstances, someone who has the Dragon blood but hasn't been 'awakened' (meaning they haven't learned any Words yet) can sense the presence of one who has been 'awakened' (has learned and used a Word with a Dragon Soul). This sense manifests as the sudden, unexpected urge to 'battle' them with their own Voice, in other words a Dragon's greeting.

→ I decided not to write the final battle between Alduin and the Dragonborn, because there's probably oh-so-many that already have, and I just don't think I could do it justice. Also, this chapter takes place right before Alyssa goes to Sovngarde in pursuit of Alduin. This also takes place right after Fultheim the Fearless (he's back!) fights the Glenmoril Witches on behalf of Kodlak.


	11. Old Memories: 1 of 2

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. Original Content © Me.

* * *

Two-part Mini #1: Old Memories (1 of 2)

* * *

Khayla paced uneasily around the caravan's camp, set up just outside of Whiterun. Ri'saad watched as she walked past him once again, before turning around to grab a Woodcutter's Axe and and begin chopping some wood. "This one thinks you are stressed about something?"

Khayla glanced up at the sky, "More like some _one_. Khajiit worries about her."

"She will return, this one is sure of it."

Khayla turned to meet Ri'saad's gentle, almost fatherly gaze. She remembered that he often seemed to have that kind look on his face, as far back as she could remember, which was when he had first approached her about becoming a bodyguard after shooing away some troublesome Altmer. She had taken up his offer immediately, and that was what led her here, to the province of Skyrim, and to Alyssa, whom she was now lovers with. She looked away as a lone guard paused to ask, "Everything alright?"

She nodded, and the Guard continued his rounds. She turned to meet Ri'saad's eyes, "This one has heard rumors of her flying away on the wings of a Dragon to kill Alduin. She cannot help but worry, what if that dragon decides to eat her? What if Alduin does? How will this one ever know?"

Ri'saad stood up from the rug of his tent and walked over to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and replied, "You are strong, she is strong. This one has no doubt that she will return, alive and triumphant."

Khayla sniffed a bit, "How can Khajiit be so certain?"

Ri'saad continued smiling, "Because this one cannot stand the sight of a broken heart. And he knows that Alyssa is not the type to let that happen."

* * *

That night, Khayla lay in her tent as Ma'randu-jo kept watch that night. She couldn't sleep, as she worried that the worst had happened to Alyssa. She turned onto her side, curling up a bit and shivering from the cold. She tried to go to sleep by shutting her eyes. She snapped awake when she heard Ma'randu-jo draw his sword and call out, "Who goes there?"

A familiar voice replied that gave Khayla surprise and relief, "It is I, Alyssa. I wanted to see it Khayla was still around."

In response, Khayla slid out from under her tent and stood up to make eye-contact with the white-furred Khajiit. The two wasted no time in embracing. Khayla inhaled her scent and smiled, slipping into a more personal dialect around her, "I have missed you greatly."

"I've missed you too." Khayla noted that Alyssa's tone was somber and asked about it. "I've killed Alduin, as was required of me. But, I feel... I feel used and discarded, like the Gods only needed me to stop Alduin and nothing else."

Khayla tried to think of an answer, "Maybe the Gods simply figured it would better for you to continue on your own path through the world?" She looked into Alyssa's eyes and grinned, "Come, spend the night with us tonight. You look like you need the rest."

Alyssa grinned, "Alright, since I have some things I'd like to ask Ri'saad tomorrow."

* * *

When morning arrived, there was a general feeling of celebration, as a great evil had been vanquished, and at least a couple Guards came up to Alyssa to let her know that the people of Skyrim were thankful for her actions. She had other things she wanted to do at the moment, and both of which she was going to take care of as soon as possible. After a small breakfast, the very first thing she did was walk up to Ri'saad with the intent to ask him a question, "Ri'saad, did you know my mother and father?"

Ri'saad seemed confused, "An odd question to ask. How am I to know for sure? Why is it important?"

Alyssa held his gaze, "My mother was S'Raza, and my true name is Raksha. I have a reason to believe that you were involved in helping her and my father to escape from the Aldmeri Dominion. Is this true?"

Ri'saad frowned, "Yes. I am afraid that it is true. Long before my days as a traveling tradesman, I trafficked Dominion refugees out of areas controlled by the Thalmor. S'Raza and J'Tahr were the last two that I was able to help with, before a Thalmor assassin managed to stab me in the back. Her dagger missed my spine, but it made me realize that I couldn't do that for the rest of my life. That is why I became a Trade Caravaner."

"...What was my father like? My real one, not the Nord who raised me."

"Ah, that was back when your fur color was different. Galathil was able to change your appearance back then to hide you from the Thalmor, for they suspected your bloodline was somehow Dragon blood, the greatest threat to the Aldmeri Dominion. Your father was a brave man, a thief of the highest caliber and a master of the Whispering Fang. Even, despite his thieving activities, he was a saint by all other accounts, as he stole from the Thalmor, and what he stole was given to either resistance groups or to those that truly needed it. I do not know what happened to him after he and S'Raza reached the border, and I have heard varying tales, from a Dark Brother killing him to him starting a secret school for people wanting to learn the Whispering Fang as he did."

"...My fur was a different color back then?"

"Yes, it was black, and your eyes weren't blue-green, but yellow back then. S'Raza had one particular High Elf change your fur and eyes to hide you from the Thalmor. If you feel you want to, you can speak with Galathil. I have heard that she makes her home in the Ragged Flagon, in Riften's Ratway. Tell her that Ri'saad wishes warm sands upon her, she'll know what it means."

* * *

As Khayla and Alyssa hopped onto the carriage to Riften, Alyssa decided to bring up something, "Khayla... I think I've finally found an answer to... that problem of mine."

Khayla looked surprised, "You did?"

Alyssa's grin faded as she remembered, "Well, I found a lead. After Riften, if nothing happens, I am going to visit the Vigilants of Stendarr right after and come forward to Keeper Carcette about my issue and see if she can help me." She looked up to meet Khayla's eyes, "I was hoping you could come with me?"

Khayla grinned, "I have had a small interest in seeing the Hall of the Vigilant. It might be an interesting visit."

Alyssa glanced up at the carriage driver, before turning back to Khayla, "It would be incredibly helpful if you were there, for a couple reasons. I'd like you to be there for support. And if something goes wrong, I'd rather have you watching my back."

Khayla understood what she meant and nodded, "I won't let anyone hurt you, and anyone who does isn't going to live to tell about it."

Alyssa couldn't help the small grin that spread across her lips. She looked up at Khayla and said to her in a slightly playful tone, "Don't focus on protecting me so much that you forget to protect yourself. Besides, I can watch your back just as easily."

Khayla caught on, "I'll bet that you can watch my back. Just do not to get distracted by it."

The two of them proceeded to share a small chuckle, a rare moment where they weren't actively fighting for their lives, defending the caravan in Khayla's case, or fighting dragons in Alyssa's case.

* * *

Galathil was staring down at her book, refreshing her techniques once again when a familiar face walked up to her. "Hello again, come to take me up on that offer?"

She noticed the heavily armored Khajiit behind the newest thief in the Guild. Alyssa instead looked at her and replied, "Ri'saad wishes warm sands upon you."

The high elf looked spooked by the phrase, then looked around, before standing up, closing her book, and setting it down. She placed a hand on Alyssa's shoulder, and another on her face, holding her still, studying her. As she did, she realized, "This fur color, those aquamarine eyes... Raksha? So you've managed to survive this whole time." A tender smile met Alyssa's gaze as the impact of Galathil's revelation sank in, "I remember you from back when you were just a little cub. Your fur and your eyes were a different color back then. I assume you know why I had to change them, yes?"

Alyssa nodded, prompting Galathil to ask, "Would you like me to give you back your true colors? It would throw the Thalmor off your scent once again, since they're now looking for Alyssa, not Raksha."

Alyssa turned and looked at Khayla, who only shrugged, "The decision is yours to make. I will support you no matter what."

She thought about it for a moment, then turned to Galathil, "I'd like my real self back. If I've been hiding so much that I've been hiding from myself, I want to stop hiding."

Galathil asked for confirmation, "Are you certain you want to go through with this? People you know might only recognize Alyssa. You can explain it to them, but be wary of who you speak to, for the Thalmor do have ears everywhere, and they will make the connection between Alyssa and Raksha, and unlike when you were Alyssa, they won't be as subtle about hunting down Raksha. After all, the greatest threat to them is a child of Akatosh who has the powers of the Hero-god of Man." Her hands began glowing with an unfamiliar spell that looked oddly like a combination of a basic healing spell and a transmutation spell. She cast the spell, causing a slightly blinding light that Alyssa had to shield her eyes from.

When the light subsided, she looked around, then looked at her hands and realized that, sure enough, her fur color had seemingly inverted. She turned to meet Khayla's eyes and asked, "What color are my eyes?"

Khayla squinted a bit, in the dim light of the Ragged Flagon, it was a bit difficult to see at times, but it was clear that she was using her Night Eye to see, "Yellow."

She looked down at her own hands. It felt like a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders and she wasn't certain why that was. Perhaps it was the knowledge of finally getting to be her true self, or perhaps it was the fact that she was closer to filling in the gaps in her past. She couldn't say for certain. However, now that this was taken care of, all she had left to do was find a cure for her Lycanthropy.

* * *

A/N

→ Headcanon: Some Khajiits can, after exposure to another dialect, learn to speak it, just as some Nords could, given time, learn to speak in a Khajiiti dialect, or a Dunmer learning how to speak in an Argonian dialect or vice versa. With enough skill, they can even switch semi-fluently between dialects, like with Khayla.

→ Other headcanon: Galathil is able to change the player's face easily and without complications by invoking a spell unique to her, which relies on both Restoration and Alteration magic.

→ Some of you who've been reading this for a while might have noticed that I changed Alyssa's Khajiiti name from Akhara to Raksha. I chose to change her name because I didn't like how much it sounded like Ahkari, and decided to give her a name a bit more reminiscent of her mother's name.


	12. Old Memories: 2 of 2

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. Original Content © Me.

* * *

Two-part Mini #1: Old Memories (2 of 2)

* * *

The carriage was waiting patiently in the rain as Raksha and Khayla walked out through Riften Gates, with Raksha having decided to ditch the leather armor she had for her Guild Leathers. The guards didn't bat an eye at seeing her out and about in Thieves' Guild attire, though a couple civilians did give them some strange looks. Raksha suspected that it was more the oddness of seeing two Khajiits in a city instead of just the one. Or, perhaps it was that she looked different now, and many of the Nords in this village had gotten used to 'Alyssa' or they believed that she actually was a different Khajiit.

It didn't matter much, as the duo still had something to do. Raksha payed the driver to take them to Dawnstar, then joined Khayla in the carriage.

Somewhere on the border to Eastmarch, Khayla decided to ask, "So, how does it feel to be a different you?"

Raksha grinned, yellow eyes staring up at the rainy sky, "It feels liberating. I feel more like myself again." She frowned suddenly, "But, everyone I'm friends with only knows the other me. How would-" She stopped herself before she could mention Jarl Balgruuf. She was hesitant about mentioning herself as the Thane of Whiterun around someone who hadn't seen 'her' before. She had no problem with Khayla knowing, but the whole fact that her being the aforementioned rank had almost gotten her killed by the Dark Brotherhood did cause her to maintain a certain amount of caution when talking about Alyssa's life especially around strangers who could be potential Thalmor Spies. A majority of the people she knew often seemed to hold similar opinions about the Thalmor, often hating them, despite their own views on the outlaw of and the worship of Talos.

She put her thoughts aside after the carriage driver mentioned something about the weather, and upon looking around, noticed as well that some dark clouds were rolling in. She could smell the rain in the air and turned to the carriage driver, "How much farther to Dawnstar?"

"Oh, 'bout another hour. We've reached The Pale by now. You want me to pick up the pace?"

"No rush." She glanced at Khayla and stretched, "Wake me when we get there."

* * *

She soon became aware of a cold wind that felt like it blew right through her and woke up on her own. Khayla looked up at the sky muttering aloud, "It is a strange sight, the white flakes that sometimes fall from the sky."

The carriage driver took note, "'Tis just a bit of snow. I'm not surprised that an outsider like you hasn't seen it before coming to Skyrim. I know a Redguard in Haafingar who held a similar amazement when first discovering snow. You got anything like that back where you're from?"

Khayla looked up, thoughtful, "Perhaps rainstorms in the more tropical parts of Elsweyr, but not so much in the deserts. This one hasn't been to Elsweyr for a couple moons now. Not since the Thalmor moved in."

"Well, at least we agree on one thing. Damn Altmer and their superiority complex."

Khayla shook a couple flakes off her nose and replied, "Not all of them are bad, this one can name a few right now who have defied the Aldmeri Dominion. Viarmo is a Bard recording the history of Skyrim, Runil is a priest of Arkay that this one has met in Falkreath." She glanced at Raksha as she sat up, "In fact, the day that the Dragonborn had gone to vanquish Alduin, this one met an aspiring Altmer mage who had just escaped from his Thalmor acolytes, according to what the Companion helping him had told this one."

The driver took note, "That so? Well, I'll have to see 'bout meeting these people. Not sure when that'll be." He stopped the horse, "Alright, here we are, Dawnstar." As the two Khajiits hopped out of the carriage, the driver called out to them, "You be careful around here. I heard that the Dragonborn got stabbed by the Dark Brotherhood near here."

Raksha almost turned to tell him that the Dark Brotherhood weren't a problem, but held off on doing so. She instead reached into her pack and pulled out her map, with a small mountain marked to show where the Hall of the Vigilant was located. She looked up at Khayla, then back down at the map before saying, "Think we could make it? Or do you wanna spend the night first?"

Khayla shook her head, "I would much like to get this done. I have this terrible feeling that if we wait any longer, something terrible will happen."

* * *

As the duo reached the Hall of the Vigilant, Khayla was relieved to see a couple members of the Vigilants of Stendarr outside the Hall, performing daily chores around the Hall. Raksha was still uncertain why, but was starting to suspect that something else might happen. It was just intuition, though when one of the Vigilants noticed her and gave her a glare, as if he just _knew_ about her lycanthropy, she felt a bit on-edge. As they approached the Hall's entrance, the Vigilant kept his eyes on them as she opened the door to the Hall and went in.

The first of the Vigilants to greet her was a Breton with a large warhammer strapped to her back. She crossed her arms upon seeing Raksha and commented, "You would dare to show up on our doorstep, Werewolf? Do you have a death wish?"

Raksha tensed up a bit and glanced at Khayla, who gave her a small, encouraging smile. She looked the Breton in the eyes and with some confidence, answered, "I'm here because I seek a cure."

The Breton looked marginally surprised, "Really? That would make you the third person within a week to ask about curing their lycanthropy."

Raksha raised an eyebrow, "'Third?'"

The Breton gave her a smile, "Indeed, I think it's a sign that people are finally starting to understand just how dangerous the Daedra truly are. Three days ago, we had none other than the Harbinger of the Companions come in to ask about curing his and his friends' lycanthropy."

This shocked Raksha, "The Companions are Werewolves?"

The Vigilant shook her head, "As far as we know, only the Circle." She held out a hand, "Let me introduce myself. I am Keeper Carcette. I'm the leader of this band, bringing Stendarr's Mercy to the needing and his Justice to the Daedra." Raksha took the gesture as a good sign and shook Carcette's hand. She gestured for the Khajiits to follow her as she took them into the Hall's basement, "We've known that there were Werewolves among the Companions for a long time. However, given that they are also well-established and well-respected by Whiterun and even its Jarl, we haven't really tried to make any moves due to the fact that it would be inviting a war upon the Vigilants of Stendarr."

Raksha observed the small room, with an Arcane Enchanter, Alchemy Lab, and an Anvil in the room and asked, "You leave the Companions alone despite their condition?"

Carcette nodded, "It's kind of a necessary evil. We've tried to approach them about finding a cure before, since it would be hard to eradicate the Werewolves with guards trying to kill us. The fact that Kodlak Whitemane approached _us_ first about such a topic is surprising, though we worry that he's painting a target on his back in doing so."

Carcette pulled out a bunch of old books and laid them out across a table as Raksha asked, "How so?"

She searched through the various journals and documents and replied, "The Silver Hand. Their hearts are in the right place, but they are going about the eradication of lycanthropy completely wrong in my opinion. They've turned into another Dawnguard."

Khayla asked about that, "The Silver Hand were once part of the Vigilants of Stendarr?"

Carcette nodded, then grinned as she found the journal she was looking for, "One thing that I've always told the Vigilants under my training is that Stendarr is the god of _Mercy_ just as much as he is the god of Justice, and that someone seeking sanctuary in some way from the Daedra can be helped." She read through the journal, then frowned, "Dammit! This complicates things."

Raksha's ears perked up, "What's wrong?"

Carcette turned to Raksha and raised an eyebrow, "Just how badly do you want to cure your Lycanthropy?"

Raksha glanced at Khayla, then told the Vigilant, "I love her, and I worry that my condition may get in the way of our love. The other part is that every time I close my eyes, I see horrors and monsters all linked to Hircine. I want to cure myself so that I might not hurt those I care for."

Carcette glanced down at the journal, "Well then, this may be tricky, but I think I have a ritual that might be able to help you. However, the journal that documents it is vague, but there is the basics to a Ritual for your cure. But, I might be able to work around that. What we need is a Silver Ingot, one part Fire Salts, one part Frost Salts, one part Void Salts, one Taproot, one Briar Heart, and a Dark Welkynd Stone. I've already got all the Salts, but we're missing the Silver Ingot, the Taproot, the Briar Heart, and the Dark Welkynd Stone. With these, I might be able to complete the ritual."

Raksha frowned, "I'm sorry, but what is a Dark Welkynd Stone? It sounds rare."

Carcette nodded, "A good observation. They originate from the Ayleid. They are Welkynd Stones that had been altered in some way to make them more in-touch with Magic in such a way that they could be made to cast spells automatically, and were generally used by the Ayleid to guard important structures. The journal mentions the ritual making use of a Dark Welkynd Stone's in-depth attunement to magic. The only ones currently in existence are only found in Ayleid Ruins nowadays, and the locations of many of those ruins were lost during the Oblivion Crisis."

Raksha's ears folded back and she hung her head, only to perk up when Carcette remembered, "However, There might be one a bit closer to home. I was in Dawnstar recently and had heard about a shipment that had arrived carrying Ayleid artifacts that was on its way to Winterhold for the Mages to study. There might by a Dark Welkynd Stone that we need to complete the ritual among them. If you could get that Stone -and if you're truly serious about curing yourself, I won't care how- along with the rest of what we need, we can perform the Ritual."

Raksha was surprised by her change of attitude, only to hear Carcette add, "Honestly, I think if you wave enough gold in front of the captain's eyes, it might convince him to just give you the Stone."

Raksha nodded, remembering to keep that in mind, then asked, "What about the Briar Heart and the Taproot?" She already had an idea about where to get some Silver, and she was hopeful that the blacksmith would be able to provide the ingot in question.

Carcette reviewed the journal as she spoke, "If you're lucky, an alchemist usually has a Taproot or Briar Heart for sale. If not, well, then it gets tricky. The Taproot is essentially the heart of a Spriggan, though you're not likely to encounter Spriggans here in the colder regions of the Pale. The Rift is a good place to start if you need to find a Spriggan. As for the Briar Heart, I am uncertain where they are originally from, but nowadays, you can find them on -or _in_ \- a Forsworn Briarheart Warrior, the elite warriors of the Forsworn, second only to the Hagravens, who they had given their original hearts and their free will to. I would recommend you try an Alchemist first. The Hagravens have some control over Daedric Magics, and I wouldn't put it past them to try and manipulate you through them."

Raksha grinned, "Thank you, Keeper Carcette. I'll get those ingredients for you."

* * *

The city of Dawnstar wasn't as impressive as Whiterun or Solitude or even Windhelm, but it had a certain "small town feel" that Raksha didn't mind too much. The recent discovery that the Dawnstar Sanctuary was just outside of town put a bit of a sour note in an otherwise decent town. Despite knowing -and having personally ensured- that the Dark Brotherhood was gone, it didn't make her feel completely comfortable being around here, though she could honestly say the same for Falkreath.

The Mortar and Pestle, more or less the only shop in the entire hold, was a small two-story building owned by Frida, who Raksha remembered helping out by finding a memento for her to remember her husband by. The elderly alchemist, currently standing over the counter, greeted her with a smile, "I hope your parents are proud of you, they have plenty of reason to be."

Raksha returned the gentle smile, "Hello Frida. I was wondering if you might, by chance, happen to have a Taproot and a Briar Heart in your stock today."

Frida stood up from the counter and turned to her shelves, "I have one of each left. If you want them, they're yours. Do you have any potions you're planning to make?"

Raksha nodded, "Soon." She placed a coin purse on the counter and placed the ingredients in her satchel, "Thank you, Frida."

"Take care of yourself out there."

After leaving the Mortar and Pestle, Khayla pulled out the list that she had been given, "That takes care of the Taproot and the Briar Heart. We still need a Silver Ingot and that Dark Welkynd Stone." She glanced at Raksha, "Two pieces of Iron, a Transmute spell, and a Smelter could give us a Silver Ingot."

Raksha glanced over at where Rustleif and Seren were working their forge, "I was thinking I might just see if they have an Ingot. Besides, I don't know that spell."

Khayla could've blushed, "Oh."

It was a short walk over to the couple, and they happened to have some resources, including a few Silver Ingots that they were willing to part with, though as they left, Seren commented on it, "If you wanted to make marriage rings, I personally would use gold and sapphires."

Raksha glanced at Khayla, feeling as if her fur had turned a few shades redder herself, "It's, uh..."

Rustleif smiled, "It's okay, we could pretty much tell when two people are in love."

Khayla spoke up for Raksha, "It's not for marriage. Besides, we have already got that part figured out. I appreciate the advice though."

The final ingredient needed for the ritual was going to be interesting to acquire, considering that the extent of interaction she had with Captain Wayfinder consisted of having heard his name, in Raksha's case. Khayla had never even heard of him before. Nevertheless, she had an idea as to where to find him. The only ship docked at Dawnstar was _the Sea Squall_ , and with it was a Nord who she found was surprisingly younger than she expected for someone frequently addressed as 'Captain.' "Captain Wayfinder, yes?"

The Nord was a bit startled when he heard his title. He turned around to come face to face with Raksha and Khayla. "Can I help you?"

Raksha lowered her voice and asked as quietly as she could manage without alerting the others, "I've heard a few things, such as someone shipping Ayleid artifacts to Winterhold. I was hopeful that this someone might be willing to let me buy one of these artifacts."

Wayfinder was immediately suspicious, "What makes you think I would even consider letting you just browse through my cargo? What are you, Thieves' Guild?" He had meant that as a sarcastic remark and she knew it, but that remark stung a bit close to home for her, given her attempts to try and bring the Guild out of its run of bad luck. She had initially only joined the Guild on a whim, and because the skills they taught her were useful outside of Guild assignments.

She put thoughts of the Guild aside for the time being and attempted to persuade him, "A good friend of mine at the College desperately needs a very specific item for her research and sent me ahead to pick it up. That's all we need, just one little magic stone."

Wayfinder seemed to relax a little, "Well, I guess I could afford to part with that Dark Welkynd Stone. Though, I can't just give it away without a little compensation. Something like that is fairly rare and is priced a bit high. I think 10,000 septims should cover it."

Raksha paused for a moment, debating over whether to try and persuade him to lower the price, then begrudgingly handed over the coin purse, "It's a deal."

Captain Wayfinder grinned, "I'll head below deck and get it for you. You just wait right there." He practically ran below deck, and only a couple minutes had passed before he returned to her with a small package in his hand. He handed it to her, then cautioned her, "Be careful with it, I've heard that the Ayleid knew how to made these things to cast spells on their own."

* * *

The Vigilants standing out front recognized Raksha and Khayla, and while still clearly guarded, they seemed a bit comfortable with the former. She assumed that Carcette must have told them she was alright and went into the Hall. With Khayla close behind her, she ventured into the basement of the Hall, and overheard part of a conversation between Carcette and someone brutish, "...you're wrong, Krev. You don't understand. This person wants to be cured, and she's going out of her way just to help me."

"You just don't _get_ it, do you, Carcette? There is _no_ cure for Lycanthropy. These people lost themselves the moment they accepted Hircine into their lives. They're _lost_ to us, they've given themselves up to the Beast and the only way to get rid of them is to purge them from Nirn."

"But, there is a journal right here, it documents a ritual that cleanses the body _and_ the soul of Hircine's taint! They _can_ be cured, Krev! Why don't you get that?"

"And how do you know that journal isn't just wishful thinking? This is just like the story with Kodlak and his pack of Werewolves out in Whiterun. They're animals, Carcette, and they're dangerous."

"You've gone too far, Krev. You wonder why we forced you to leave the Vigilants? You're turning into another Isran."

Raksha stepped into the room and noticed a tall Nord clad in Steel Plate Armor, armed with a strange sword she'd never see before. The instant he made eye-contact with her, his hand drifted to his sword, but he seemed to avoid drawing it. Instead he simply grunted and shoved past her on his way out. Raksha, once she was certain he was beyond earshot, muttered, "Real charmer, isn't he?"

Carcette shook her head, "That's Krev. Do you remember that Silver Hand faction that I mentioned? He's their leader, or one of." Her mood changed when Raksha went over to the counter and set the items she had acquired on it, "You got them? Even the stone? Excellent! Now, I'll prepare the mixture and the amulet that the journal describes. Meet me outside the Hall in a couple minutes." She practically ran off, clearly excited both to try out the new ritual and to hopefully achieve a new feat for the Vigilants.

* * *

Outside the Hall of the Vigilant, Raksha noticed that three of the Vigilants had arranged a small magic circle utilizing a quintet of Grand Soul Gems placed on the same amount of stands. Even from here, with her at-best novice amount of skill in any magic beyond the Thu'um, Raksha could feel the tightly bound Magicka in the circle. The Vigilants stepped aside as Carcette stepped out of the Hall with a large, blue potion bottle in hand. She gave it to Raksha along with a silver amulet that had the Dark Welkynd Stone fixed to the amulet. She began giving her directions, "I've been studying the journal closely, and I think I can help you to be rid of your Lycanthropy if this works properly." She held her hand out and sent a burst of Magicka that swirled into a blue rune in the center of the magic circle, "This rune should connect both of our Magicka pools, it'll let me manipulate your Magicka and force the beast out."

Raksha noted the choice of words, "You say that like there's more to this than just a potion to cure some disease."

Carcette gave her a grim look, "Lycanthropy sickens the soul just as it sickens the body. In order to cure you, I have to draw the infection out from your soul to cure your body." She gestured to the rune, "Now, once you step onto the rune, I'll need you to put the amulet on. It will amplify our magical abilities. Once you put the amulet on, drink the elixir and the magicka in it should alter your body just enough to let me pull the disease out."

As Raksha made for the center of the circle, Carcette stopped her, "I should warn you, it may feel like you freeze up once you're on the rune, but I promise it'll only be temporary, and it _should_ be harmless."

With that in mind, Raksha glanced at Khayla, who gave her a reassuring smile. She decided that she'd try to get the ritual over with now, and hopefully get her Lycanthropy cured. She stepped onto the rune, feeling a warm sensation despite the snowstorm. Bands of blue magic swirled around her as she slipped the amulet on. Small, blue orbs of magic seemed to radiate from her body, so, she took the final step and took a long drink of the elixir given to her. Immediately, she felt the sensation of... well, _fading_.

She looked at her hands and realized that, possibly as a result of the powerful magics at work, she had become Ethereal, but without her Shout. She could see a deep red glow in her chest and looked up at Carcette as she crossed one arm over the other, bright red light swirling around her as the spell she was casting lifted her into the air. She spread her arms out, unleashing the built-up magic in a single, explosive burst that didn't affect anyone else, but when it hit her, Raksha felt as though she was pushed by a powerful wind.

Raksha felt herself become physical again and collapsed. She could hear weapons being drawn and the sound of something growling. Something red and translucent lunged for the Vigilants, but she was still numb and trying to recover from the ritual. She was able to focus enough to see that the being was some kind of red ghost wolf. It was huge compared to Wolves that she'd seen before, but even if it was significantly stronger than others, it was still struggling to fight three armed Vigilants and a heavily armed Khajiit. She felt her strength return to her and as Raksha began trying to stand up, she looked up in time to see Khayla swing her Ebony Sword right into the wolf ghost's mouth, slashing it right through the skull, then yanking the sword back out. The ghost 'exploded' into a fog that coalesced on the ground as a pile of red ghostly remains.

Khayla was at her side the instant the fight was done and helping her back onto her feet, "How do you feel?"

Raksha shook her head to try and clear the snow off her face and answered after some thinking. "I... My mind, it feels clearer! Like some great curtain has been lifted!" She turned to Khayla, barely able to contain herself, "I don't feel like all I sense is the heartbeat of prey anymore!" She paused, then turned to Keeper Carcette, "What was that wolf-ghost?"

Carcette shrugged, "The ritual mentioned that it would force Hircine's taint out of someone, right down to the soul. I just didn't expect it to take a form of its own." She held a hand out and she cast a small spell, "I can't sense any form of Lycanthropy in you, either one of you. I think that means the ritual..." She trailed off as her jaw dropped and her eyes widened, "By Stendarr! That's...!

The other Vigilants noticed as well, "But, that's impossible!"

Raksha looked around, "What?"

"The amulet," Carcette noticed, "It's... Well, it's changed." Raksha felt the amulet around her neck and noticed that it felt odd. She pulled off a gold necklace that had a red octahedron in a golden frame. She held it out to Carcette, but the Keeper refused to hold it, "It... I don't know if it _is_ , but it looks just like the Amulet of Kings!"

Raksha had heard of the Amulet, said to have been used by Martin Septim, the last of the Septim Bloodline to strengthen the barriers between Mundus and Oblivion during the Oblivion Crisis. She had even seen depictions of it, but had never thought she'd hold something that may or may not be the Amulet of Kings. She turned it over in her hands a few times, before asking Keeper Carcette, "Was this supposed to happen?"

Carcette shook her head, "The journal never mentioned anything like this happening. This is incredible though! For something like that to appear in your hands, just from curing a Daedric disease! It must mean that you hold the favor of the Divines!" She paused, before asking, "...Is that you, Dragonborn?"

She never got to answer as an arrow shot past her, narrowly missing her head and burying itself in the wall of the Hall. She turned to where the arrow was fired from to see a series of warriors garbed in Silver-trimmed Steel Plate Armor, each brandishing Silver Swords, Silver Greatswords, or Silver-lined Bows. The leader, no-one that Raksha recognized, drew her sword and yelled, "Die werewolf!" With that, the Silver Hand charged at the group, weapons drawn.

Khayla blocked a couple Silver arrows and raised her shield just in time to block a Greatsword from severing her head. She bashed the Silver Hand warrior with her Ebony shield, then swung her sword for a swift decapitation. Next to her, Raksha had drawn her own Ebony sword, casting an Ironflesh spell right before ducking under another sword, taking the opportunity to push the warrior back.

Standing upright, she took a deep breath, then Shouted, " _Yol Toor Shul!_ " Flames erupted from her mouth as if she were a Dragon, creating a rolling wave of flames that brushed over the Silver Hands, who were -despite being prepared for werewolves- caught off-guard by their opponent being the Dragonborn. Many of the Silver Hand promptly abandoned their squad, deciding that they didn't have a death wish.

The leader threw off her helmet, revealing herself to be a young Bosmer, who leveled a glare at Raksha, "You... You're the Dragonborn?!" She threw her helmet into the snow, then drew her Silver Sword, "Well, Dragonborn or not, I'm not gonna let a Werewolf roam free and terrorize the innocent! So come and face me, monster!" She taunted the Dragonborn, "I am Siv the Butcher! I will not back down from the likes of you, monster!"

Raksha readied her sword as Siv charged at her. She didn't have the time to swing and was forced to parry Siv's Silver Sword. She pushed Siv's sword away from her and kicked her in the stomach, stumbling Siv. The Khajiit charged at Siv and jabbed her sword forward, the Ebony weapon effortlessly slicing right through the Silver-trimmed Steel Plate cuirass, and through the Silver Hand warrior's body. She pulled the sword out and stepped aside as Siv crumpled to the ground. Raksha shook her head, then sheathed her sword and kneeled next to the body, placing a hand on the corpse and muttering, "I'm sorry." In truth, looking at it, she wished that she didn't have to kill these people, despite how hellbent they were on killing her.

Raksha walked back to meet Khayla and Carcette, the latter standing in complete awe. Carcette stood staring at the scorched ground and charred bodies where Raksha's Fire Breath had touched. She turned to ask the Khajiit if she was the Dragonborn, more just to hear the Dragonborn confirm it, but saw Raksha wrap her arms around Khayla, ears flattened against her head. The Ebony-clad Khajiit recovered from the brief surprise at the hug and wrapped her arms around Raksha. She heard Raksha's shaky breathing and asked, "Are you feeling well?"

Raksha took a moment, then finally answered, "I'm... I'm just a bit shaken up. I'll be fine." She didn't think she was lying, but she wasn't sure she fully believed those words herself. Perhaps it was the rush of being attacked literally right after being cured of her Lycanthropy, perhaps it was just the guilt of killing people who she honestly felt didn't need to die, she didn't really know, and at the moment just wanted someone to hold. However, even she knew when close personal contact got awkward, so she let go of Khayla after a couple seconds. She turned to Keeper Carcette and said, "Thanks for helping me."

The Keeper nodded, "Anytime you need my help, Dragonborn, don't hesitate to ask."

* * *

A/N

→ It might be and it might not be an Amulet of Kings that Raksha has. Whether it is or not, it becomes a vital plot point at some point. Just as soon as I think of what that is. Also, a couple other treats in the chapter for anyone who's played Oblivion or otherwise knows some of the more in-depth lore of the game.

→ Since Raksha didn't contract Lycanthropy as part of the Companions Quest-line, I realized that I'd need to find some other way that was at least somewhat lore-friendly as a method to cure it.

→ I wasn't a real fan of how the Silver Hand were nothing more than slightly-less generic Bandits, so I decided to give them gear that's a bit more unique. I give you Silver-lined Bows (Basically it's a Hunting Bow with Silver engravings, can't be upgraded, _can_ be enchanted, deals 20 extra points of damage to Lycanthropes and Undead), Silver-trimmed Steel Plate Armor (Steel Plate Armor with Silver trimming, can't be upgraded, can be enchanted, resist 20 extra points of damage from Lycanthropes and Undead), and Silver-tipped Arrows (Basically Iron arrows with a Silver tip, deals 20 extra points of damage against Lycanthropes and Undead). I also decided to feature some backstory for them, basically turning them into an evil counterpart to the Dawnguard, as alluded to many times.


	13. A Nord and his Elven BFF

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. Original Content © Me.

* * *

One-shot #4: A Nord and His Elven BFF

* * *

A few of the regulars at the Bannered Mare were a bit surprised to an Altmer walk in. He returned the sudden attention with a nervous shuffle, like he wasn't used to all the attention. Shortly after, Mikael began resuming his singing, and their attention was off of him. Satisfied that Merandil was not being given anything more than a passing stare, he scanned the room, searching for someone in particular. He spied the Companion sitting alone at the bar and made his way there.

The bartender wasn't too happy to see him take a seat at her bar, "What do you want, damn elf?"

Merandil winced internally at the comment, saying, "I just want to buy a round for my friend here."

The Companion, clad in what looked like freshly polished armor invoking that of the Ancient Nord Heroes, turned to look at the Elf who had called him friend. Merandil noticed a slight change since they had last met, he had a small mustache and beard. He grinned when he recognized the Elf, "Well met, friend!" Fultheim gave him a hearty pat on the back, "I was wondering if I'd see you again!"

Merandil grinned back, "Of course. I have you to thank for setting me on my own path." He reached into his pack and pulled out a couple of carefully folded articles of clothing, "Speaking of which, I believe these are yours?"

Fultheim glanced at the clothes, then at Merandil's wizard robes, save for the Steel Plate Gauntlets and Boots he wore, "How about that!" He flashed a great big smile at Merandil, "Why don't you go on ahead and keep those clothes, aye? That way you'll have something to change into if you need to."

Hulda placed down a couple tankards of mead on the bar for them as Merandil put them back, "I truly appreciate that, Fultheim. Perhaps I could return the favor someday?"

Fultheim's smile faded into a grin, "Aye, celebrate this reunion with me, then perhaps we could go and knock some skulls together!"

Merandil raised an eyebrow, "You... want me to join you on a bounty?"

Fultheim nodded, "I'm nothing if not respectful. It's kind of a requirement for a Harbinger of the Companions. My companions may not respect the Clever Craft as quickly, but I have seen first-hand the good that magic can do. And yes, I'd like you to join me in pursuing a bounty. It's just some troublemakers holed up in White River Watch."

Merandil sipped from his tankard, "Hmm... This tastes different from last time... Is this from a different meadery?"

Fultheim nodded, "Aye, Black-Briar East Meadery. Used to be the Honningbrew Meadery before the owner got into trouble and Maven bought the place from him."

Merandil noticed, "It seems much stronger." He paused for a little while and said, "Listen, Fultheim. I need your help with something."

Fultheim looked up, "Anything for a friend, what do you need?"

The Mage quietly told the Companion about his experiences in the College of Winterhold, gaining a much better grasp on the various schools of Magic, then to an artifact that they had discovered in Saarthal, and the Thalmor Mage that Merandil believed was scheming to tap into its power. Fultheim seemed understandably worried, "I'd say you are right to be worried about this Ancano fellow. He does seem like the kind of person to stir up all sorts of trouble. But what about this Psijic Order mage that contacted you? You mentioned him, but didn't say much."

"Well, the Psijic Order is an order of mages almost as old as the Mage's Guild in Cyrodiil. In fact, they formed in direct opposition to the Mage's Guild. They might be older than the First Aldmeri Dominion for all we know."

"That seems pretty old."

"Indeed, and when the Aldmeri Dominion came to power, they just vanished from the Summerset Isles. Given the Thalmor attitude towards potential threats, I can't say I blame them."

Fultheim raised an eyebrow, putting the pieces together, "The Psijic Order originates from the Summerset Isles?"

"Indeed," Merandil nodded. He finished off his tankard and grinned at Fultheim, "You've got a keen eye for this sort of thing, don't you?"

As the bartender brought another round for the duo, the Nord grinned, "I suppose so." He looked down at his refilled mug and grimaced, "Hey, listen. I wanted to apologize for punching you in the face first time we met. I'm just not used to interfering with political affairs like that."

Merandil paused when he recalled that night. Before he realized it, he had downed the entire mug almost in a rush to forget it. He shrugged, "I should apologize as well. I didn't mean to force all of that onto you at such an inopportune time."

He was met with a cocked eyebrow and a serious tone replying, "You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. Neither of us were really prepared for what could've happened that night." With that, he finished his mug and set it down, before getting up from his seat and asking Merandil, "Well, you coming or what?"

Merandil nodded, tossing a coin-purse onto the bar for their drinks, then following Fultheim out.

* * *

White River Watch wasn't too far away from the Black-Briar East Meadery, just across the bridge toward the Ritual Stone. Fultheim recalled visiting the Ritual Stone when he was younger once and began telling Merandil about it, "See that Standing Stone over there? I used to travel with my father to see it. He once told me that it was believed that those who were born under the sign of the Ritual were destined to be remembered for great feats of valor and bravery before they died."

Merandil made a note of the Standing Stone on his map, "It's an interesting landmark. I've seen a couple like it. Are they common to find here in Skyrim?"

"Maybe, I wish I could say I've traveled far enough to see these other Standing Stones, but I haven't had that luxury yet." Fultheim pulled his Steel Nordic Warhammer out and held it at the ready, "Be ready, we're nearing the hideout now."

At his request, Merandil clenched his fingers and opened his hands back up with fiery spells at the ready, "What's your plan of attack?"

Fultheim glanced at the elf trailing behind him, "I'm going charge him from the front, I want you to take down any back up he may have."

With their plan established, Fultheim charged to meet the first Bandit head-on. With a mighty Battlecry, he swung his Warhammer at the first Bandit, who barely had time to react before receiving a crushing blow to the spine. The Marauder next to him grabbed his Orcish War Axe to cut Fultheim down, only to be on the receiving end of a merciless salvo of Firebolts. Fultheim kicked his opponent in the chest as the Bandit, struggling through the pain, turned around with an Iron Dagger in an attempt to slash his throat. The Bandit fell to the ground, giving Fultheim enough time to lift his Warhammer up and bring it down on the unlucky Bandit's chest, crushing him. Merandil, noticing that Fultheim had finished off his opponent, dual-cast a single Firebolt that he launched at the Marauder, striking him square in the face and leaving him to crumple to the ground, a scorched and bloodied corpse.

The duo proceeded to enter the cave, being confronted by a blind man that had apparently been put out on watch. Surprisingly enough, Fultheim was able to convince him that he was the same person that the old man referred to. Afterwards, they proceeded to fight their way through the cave, eventually reaching a small area where the Bandits ahead hadn't seemed to notice them. Fultheim was ready to charge right in, but Merandil stopped him, "Hold up, what are they talking about?"

Fultheim tensed up. He hated waiting to kill someone who would take that opportunity to hurt others, such as those Bandits, but upon listening in, he soon figured out why.

"...It's just not right, what's going on."

"Yeah, and if the boss finds out you're considering letting it out, he'll have your head. It stays in there until the slave trader arrives tomorrow. After that, it's not our problem."

Fultheim lowered his voice to a whisper, "Slaves?"

Merandil shook his head, "As far as I'm aware, slavery might be illegal, but that doesn't mean there isn't a profit to be made from it, and some people are way more than willing to face the punishments just to make some coin." They resumed listening to the conversation.

"But, it's not a Khajiit! They might not even pay the full price for a sickly one!"

"But it's also something that they've probably never seen before, which means that they might be willing to pay triple that of a healthy slave if we had one. I don't even know what it is, personally."

"...It kinda reminds me of those foxes I saw running around the other day. Think it's related?"

"Hmph! Probably one of those Khajiit Bandits decided to get a little friendly with the wildlife."

Fultheim tapped Merandil on the shoulder and pointed out a chain, "I'll bet you five gold that this chain opens that cage, and lets out whatever, or whoever is in it."

Merandil nodded, "It probably does, which will probably mean I owe you five gold. But I say we take care of those Bandits first."

"Is someone there?" A gruff voice asked and in a flash, Merandil pulled Fultheim out of sight, casting a spell that caused both of them to fade from sight. The Bandit had a Hunting Bow drawn and was looking around, but didn't see anything. After a few seconds of checking, and satisfied that there was nothing there, he turned to walk away, only for Merandil's Fade spell to wear off very noisily.

Fultheim wasted no time in crushing the Bandit's skull in with his Warhammer, while Merandil prepared a Fireball that he shot at the Archer perched above them. The Bandit Archer dodged the Fireball, not recognizing the spell as the danger that it was and paying as it exploded on impact with the wall behind him, throwing him off course and sending him plummeting. Fultheim finished off the third Bandit in the room by holding the Bandit with the Companion's own Warhammer and giving him a few well-placed headbutts to cave his face in.

Merandil stared at the Companion's brutality for a moment, "...Wow, remind me to not get on your bad side again."

Fultheim gave him a friendly grin as he put his Warhammer away, "That's why they call me Fultheim the Fearless!" He glanced at the cage, "Now, to find out what these Bandits were keeping in here."

At first glance, he figured that the cage was better suited for a rabid wolf, but whoever it was certainly wasn't rabid. She looked like a Khajiit at a glance, but the tan fur, fox-like head, and extra fluffy tail told a different story. She was also stark naked, save for the bindings around her hands and feet, as well as the blindfold and gag obscuring her facial features. Fultheim had seen a few Khajiits in his time, he owed his life to one, who was none other than the Dragonborn herself, for saving him from the Dark Brotherhood and pointing him in the direction of the Companions, but this was something new to him.

He removed the blindfold first, so that she could see who her rescuer was, "It's alright, we're not going to hurt you." As he reached for the gag and pulled it out of her maw, he asked her, "Are you alright?"

The being spoke, which he figured to be a good sign, "I... I'm fine..."

Fultheim felt around and realized that he'd forgotten to bring a dagger with him and turned to Merandil, "Fetch a dagger off one of those corpses so that I can get these bindings off of her."

The Elf brought him one of the Iron Daggers. It was a crude, dull blade, but he figured it was good enough to cut through the ropes. As he did, he asked the being, "What is your name?"

"...I'm... Zaara... Zaara Azarhi."

Fultheim noticed the name and pondered upon it for a moment, before asking, "I hope you don't mind me asking, but, what are you? I don't think I've ever seen your kind around here before."

"...I'm a Lilmothiit."

"Ah... What?"

The fox being looked away, "I'm not surprised that you've never heard of us. We are the beastfolk that used to inhabit what is now the Reptileman province known as Black Marsh."

Merandil was curious, "You mean the Argonians? They didn't always inhabit the Black Marsh?"

"Neither did their Void Trees."

"Void Trees..." Merandil's eyes widened as he realized, "Of course! the Hist!"

Fultheim was even more confused at this point, "Merandil, I don't quite understand what she's talking about."

As Fultheim helped the Lilmothiit back to her feet, the mage explained, "I had heard tales of the fox people who used to live in Black Marsh, before it became so inhospitable to everyone but the Argonians. I had heard that it was the Knahaten Flu, but I don't remember. The Lilmothiit were said to be nomadic society, but beyond that, there wasn't much we knew about them. Many of us thought they were all extinct."

Zaara glared at him, "Obviously, we aren't. And if it weren't for those plague lizards, we wouldn't be where we are, and I wouldn't be here for any reason."

"What reason is that?"

The Lilmothiit turned to face the Nord in response to his question, "I come seeking the Dragonborn."

Merandil and Fultheim exchanged looks, before Fultheim admitted, "I... haven't seen her in a while. There are stories going around, about what happened to her after she defeated Alduin. Some are saying that she'd been stolen by Molag Bal, other are saying that she's left in pursuit of knowledge forbidden to most. I don't know, but I haven't seen her in a long time."

Merandil raised an eyebrow, "'She?' Fultheim, was the Dragonborn, by any chance a white Khajiit?"

Fultheim glanced at him, "How did you know?"

Merandil explained what had happened back in Whiterun, a few minutes after their scuffle with the Thalmor, tactfully leaving out the part about him being a former Thalmor. Fultheim took an interest in Merandil's mention of the Voice, but Zaara was more interested in his mention of the Thalmor, "That is why I seek the Dragonborn. The Thalmor have found our new home and seek to enslave us or wipe us out! Our tribes and settlements are under siege and our leaders are being held hostage! I was sent by my tribe's healer to this land."

Merandil turned to Fultheim, then, as he handed Zaara the extra set of clothes he had, he commented on her situation, "I will be more than willing to help you find the Dragonborn and fight Thalmor influence on your land. But I need to ask for your help with something first."

Zaara changed into the clothes given to her and asked about it, "What do you need my help with?"

He glanced at Fultheim, "Actually, I'll need both of you to help with this. There is a Thalmor agent infiltrating our Mages' College, and I believe that he may be seeking to harness the energies of an artifact that we had discovered. And to understand it better, I need to travel to a Dwarven Ruin known as Mzulft for the location of a powerful artifact that may be able to contain its power if misused. Help me take care of this one task, and I will gladly help you, no matter what."

* * *

A/N

→ And so we take a break from the Dragonborn's story to look back on some other characters that I had introduced a while ago as well as a new character.

→ Fultheim the Fearless, when we last met him, had joined the Companions and was, at the moment bringing one of the other Companions with him to help fight a coven of Hagravens when he met Merandil. Nowadays, he's become the Harbinger since then, and while it wasn't mentioned directly, he has helped cure himself, Farkas, and Vilkas of their Lycanthropy. This means at present, Aela is the only Werewolf left. This will be important later, probably when Solstheim becomes an important location. Fultheim has also likewise been living up to his namesake since he was spared (and grown a bit of a beard as well)

→ Merandil has since arrived at the College of Winterhold and, despite his bitterness towards the near-constant blizzards, made himself at home there. While he has a very bright view of the College, he feels a bit intimidated by the fact that Ancano is present, due to his history with the Thalmor. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he holds great respect for Talos, not to the point of worship, but more like a sense of awe over the fact that a mortal can be apotheosized to Godhood without needing to unravel the fabric of reality to do so. Despite his supposed Expertise in Destruction Magic, he is only really advanced in Fire Destruction Magic, and struggles pretty much everywhere else. He has begun taking lessons in Restoration to go along with his Destruction Lessons, as well as Enchanting Lessons in the hopes of helping him better utilize his Magicka more efficiently.

→ A new character! Zaara Azarhi is a member of the Lilmothiit, a (canonical) species that once inhabited Black Marsh and were thought to be extinct. Given what little is known about them beyond the absolute barest of basics about their lifestyle, this makes it fairly easy to be a bit flexible with them. Why the Lilmothiit are still alive despite being thought of as extinct will be elaborated on in a later chapter.

→ A Minor change from established Canon, Ancient Nord Armor is now classified as a Light Armor in this 'verse. Mostly, it's because it just seems a bit light on the materials for a suit of Heavy Armor (doesn't help that the female version looks more like a skimpier version of Fur or Leather Armor, both of which are light armors), and I've decided that it would play out more towards Fultheim the Fearless' Light Armor Skill (Skills: Light Armor [70], Two-Handed [80], Block [40], Smithing [30]). Also, a special variant of Ancient Nord Armor, Nordic Hero Armor, which is essentially upgraded, polished Ancient Nord Armor that could only be made in the Skyforge, and requires a set of Ancient Nord Armor to craft. Another reason I decided to go with this change was due to the more modern Nordic Armor that (to me at least) actually _looks_ like Heavy Armor by comparison. I've made the same change to Falmer Armor, to better distinguish it from Falmer Heavy/Hardened Armor.

→ Also, Black-Briar East, should be a good indicator that someone's been busy...


	14. Daedric Defiance

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. Original Content © Me.

* * *

One-shot #5: Daedric Defiance

* * *

Raksha still wasn't sure how she felt about this whole situation. Almost two weeks ago, she would've thought that perhaps she'd slay Karliah on sight. But when Mercer left her for dead in Snow Veil Sanctum, and Karliah brought her back from the brink, she wasn't sure she could trust anyone in the Guild anymore. Khayla, who had thought she was dead, had only just found out when she literally just strolled into the Ragged Flagon with the supposed murderer by her side. Khayla was, perhaps thankfully, unaware of Karliah's status as the supposed murderer, although she was rather concerned that all of Raksha's Guildmates were drawing their weapons, even Etienne, who had said it himself some time back that he was forever in her debt for rescuing him from the Thalmor Embassy.

Of course, the tones all changed when it was revealed that Mercer had lied, robbed the Guild blind, and that apparently the Nightingales were indeed very real. Khayla had read the book on the Nightingales, not caring much about the idea, while Raksha had admitted that she wasn't very keen on dealing with them if they were to ever be revealed to be real. To make matters worse, Raksha had begun to doubt herself when Khayla first gave her an enchanted blade with the Nightingale Symbol adorning its hilt. And now, realizing that the Nightingales were connected to Nocturnal, the Daedric Prince of Shadows, and that Karliah had wanted her to join them, she finally had to draw the line somewhere.

"No, I can't go through with this." Raksha's answer had surprised Karliah and intrigued Brynjolf.

The Dark Elf was quick to protest, "But, without Nocturnal's blessing, how are we to defeat Mercer? He wields the full power of a Nightingale, without restrictions."

Raksha shook her head, "I'm sorry, but I didn't escape the clutches of one Daedric Prince just to be ensnared by another." Brynjolf was curious and was deep in thought at this response as she continued, "I've had enough experience with the Daedra to last many lifetimes. I've only narrowly escaped damnation in Hircine's Hunting Grounds, Hermaeus Mora thinks he can persuade me to damnation in Apocrypha, and I'm not going to spend eternity in the Evergloam."

Karliah seemed distraught, almost as though she had only considered what to do if the Khajiit in question had accepted her offer. Brynjolf gestured for the Khajiit to speak with him in private, mostly to give Karliah some space.

"Lass, I just wanted to tell ya that what you did back there was a very brave thing to do." At Raksha's raised eyebrow, he continued, "You didn't let the temptation get to your head. So, tell you what: Karliah is convinced that it would require three of us to take down Mercer, and frankly she won't say why, but if you can find and convince someone that they would be better suited for being a Nightingale, then send them here. I'm planning to go forward with that idea of becoming a Nightingale because it does appeal to me, and I'm going to try and convince Karliah that it would be fine if you chose a different path. Not everyone's cut out for something like this, and I can't say I blame ya one bit, lass."

With that, Brynjolf gave her a small salute, then left her to speak with Karliah about the proposition. She was left to her own thoughts, and tried to figure out how she'd approach the subject, or even know what to look for within any of her Guildmates.

* * *

Most of the Guild had returned to a slight sense of normality, though there was still a sense of elevated tensions, and Raksha felt it as soon as she climbed down the ladder into the Cistern. The Khajiit looked around, whispering a small Thu'um, " _Laas Yah Nir_."

Garthar, who was currently leaning against one of the cabinets, heard her whisper and raised an eyebrow when he noticed a faint red glow about her eyes, "You okay?"

Raksha nodded, "It's temporary. I'm just looking for someone who might be interested in speaking with Brynjolf about certain matters."

The Nord looked around, "Any one in particular?"

Raksha thought about it, "Perhaps someone whom I can speak to about the same matter as well, a personal matter that Brynjolf feels is necessary to keep secret."

He shook his head and muttered, "Don't you think there's been enough secrets?"

Raksha nodded, "But I have no say in the matter as far as I know."

Garthar shrugged, noticing that the glow around her eyes had faded, then suggested, "You might wanna try talking to Etienne Rarnis. I understand that you busted him out of the Thalmor Embassy, he's been looking for some way to repay you."

She sighed, "I'm sorry, but if it were possible, I'd do this another way."

Garthar shrugged, and Raksha took that as the time to take her leave. She walked off, searching for the Breton in question.

When she couldn't find him, she settled for heading out to the Ragged Flagon. She pulled up a seat at one of the tables and rested her head on her arms. She was joined shortly by Delvin, "Somethin' troubling ya? I'll listen."

She couldn't help but grin a little, "It's just this whole Mercer business. It's got me all worked up. I've been trying to find Etienne, because I wanted to ask him about something."

Delvin nodded in understanding, "This related to all that stuff I heard Karliah talking about with Brynjolf?"

Raksha looked up at the Nord, "I know you and Vex pretty well, given all the jobs I've pulled for you two. Now, don't spare my feelings, but do you think I'm a coward if I said I didn't want to be part of whatever that 'Nightingales' thing is?"

Delvin took a moment to think about it, "Sounds like a fairly big deal to miss out on. But, considering what happened between Gallus, Mercer, and Karliah, whatever it is, I'd say that you're right in the head to refuse the offer. Don't mean that I don't think you're not qualified to be Guildmaster, however."

That made Raksha's ears perk up, "What do you mean?"

Delvin's grin was smug, "You're the one who pulled us out of our little rut. Because of you, the Thieves' Guild has a hold in all the major holds of Skyrim, we've got someone who's willin' to carry our supply all across Skyrim, and we even have the Crown of Barenziah in our grasp, which is far more than what most thieves are able to accomplish in an entire lifetime." He leaned forward, "You ask me, you don't need the blessings of some old god just to prove your skills. I'd say, you've more than done that already, and if Brynjolf ain't convinced, then Vex and I would vouch for you in an instant, but somethin' tells me that Brynjolf wouldn't need a lot of convincing even if he wasn't already."

* * *

Some time after that conversation, Raksha returned to the Cistern and laid down, mostly to think about what she was going to do next. She eventually sat up and seriously considered going back to tell Karliah that she had changed her mind when a familiar voice addressed her, "Delvin tells me you were looking for me."

She looked up to see Etienne's face, initially grim, eventually break into a small grin, "Yes, I have. You know how you said you wanted to repay my kindness? When I rescued you from the Thalmor?" She paused, as if thinking about it, "You know what, don't worry about it."

Etienne was confused, "Something happen?"

She nodded, "Yeah... But I'm not sure how to tell you..."

Etienne took a seat next to her on the bed, "I'm sure we've got the time, just start from the beginning."

So, she told him everything about Mercer's betrayal, and about Gallus' journal, and even about the Nightingales and how she refused to join them. "But, the more I look at it, the more I realize that it might be better if I were to join them anyway."

Etienne shook his head, "Do you seriously believe that? Look, I know you don't mean to sound like you're guilting me into doing this, but what if I went in your place?"

Raksha was shocked, "But, I couldn't ask that of you!"

Etienne grinned, "You're Dragonborn, Raksha, you have bigger things to look forward to. And don't think I didn't figure that out, I did when you Shouted that Thalmor into a fiery inferno." He stood up, "Besides, if there was ever a way I could repay your kindness, then let me take your place among the Nightingales. I swear, we'll bring Mercer to justice."

She looked down at the floor, then met his gaze, "I can't talk you out of this, can I?"

His enthusiastic agreement made her sigh, partially in relief and partially in worry. "Alright, well, I'll tell you where to meet the Nightingales and let you decide if you truly want to join them. After that, come and meet me, I'll join you in taking the fight to Mercer."

* * *

It was a few hours later that, just outside of Nightingale Hall, Etienne, garbed in full Nightingale apparel and wielding a blade befitting one of his status, walked out with Brynjolf and Karliah not far behind. Etienne had apparently told them about what Raksha had suggested, which prompted the Nord to ask, "Just how exactly are you planning to fight him, lass? I know you'll be tagging along with us, but you're not exactly equipped on the same level as us."

Raksha gestured to her twin Ebony Swords, having finally found the time to make a new sword, "I've got some weapons." She wasn't going to admit it, but she was nervous about facing Mercer again, especially after the whole debacle earlier.

However, Karliah wasn't having any of it, "You'll only get in the way. Without Nocturnal's blessing, you wouldn't be able to fight on the same level as Mercer. You would be better off staying with the Guild and waiting for our return, if we return."

Etienne raised a hand, "I can vouch for Raksha. She's a much stronger fighter than you think, and I've seen it firsthand." She was somewhat thankful that he didn't straight up tell them about just what kind of power she wielded, but felt that they'd probably figure it out one way or another.

Brynjolf thought about it, "I won't deny that you have potential lass, but I also won't deny that you're not exactly well-equipped to deal with Mercer, considering he almost killed you last time."

Raksha glared at Brynjolf, "The only reason he almost killed me was because Karliah decided to shoot _me_ with a paralytic poison-tipped arrow."

Brynjolf turned to Karliah, "Is that true, Karliah?"

Karliah met Brynjolf's question with a reply, "It was the only way I could get her away from Mercer. She was lucky that the paralytic was able to only stop her from bleeding out when Mercer stabbed her."

Raksha felt herself snarling a bit, the Dragon within her mind protesting, "It doesn't matter that your paralytic stopped me from bleeding out, you shot me and left me defenseless against Mercer. He could've easily done some much more to ensure that I couldn't be healed because you decided to run and hide instead of facing him like you intend to now. I'm going with you, like it or not."

Karliah gave in, "Fine, but I'll take the lead. Mercer may have wronged all of us, but he betrayed the Nightingales and he deserves to die by a Nightingale's hand."

Raksha didn't like the idea, but begrudgingly accepted it, "Alright, let's meet at Irkngthand."

* * *

The Dwarven Ruin in question was abandoned, as per expected, but the bandit corpses were fresh, and when Raksha went into the ruins, she found Etienne analyzing one of the corpses. He turned to glance at Raksha, "This was Mercer's work, no doubt about it." He turned to the Dwarven Automatons that lay broken and destroyed, "Brynjolf and Karliah might be further inside, let's get going."

Raksha remained stealthy throughout the ruin, taking careful steps and doing her best to avoid traps. Ever since she had fought the Dark Brotherhood, she'd been working much harder to improve her stealth capabilities along with her Illusion Magic, to the point where she'd discovered the secret to using that in combination with her Stealth to cast silent spells. In order to focus her skills in Illusion, she'd paid one of the College Mages to make her 'forget' her Flames spell, removing it from her Soul. These skills now showed as she was able to keep up with the Breton, eventually meeting up with the other Nightingales.

After meeting up, it was a bit rougher from then onward, as they quickly found that Irkngthand wasn't as abandoned on the inside as they had hoped. The Falmer, monsters that Raksha had only really ever seen -and actually thought they were only found- in Blackreach. As they reached one of the small 'villages' that the Falmer had set up, Karliah noticed and pointed out Mercer, prompting them to look where she pointed in time to see him sneak up behind a Falmer, grab it from behind, with a Muffle Spell in his hand as he covered the Falmer's mouth and slit its throat in an instant. He left the dead Falmer behind, before standing straight up to stare straight at the quartet. "He's goading us. We have to stop him before he can get to the Eyes."

With that, they continued onward, at least until they encountered a fallen Dwarven Centurion surrounded by several dead Falmer. "Damn, he really doesn't mess around, does he, lass?" Raksha poked around in the Centurion's insides for a moment, eventually pulling out a small, spherical object with a glowing, perpetually spinning, red core that was encased in Dwarven metal. Brynjolf walked up to admire the find, "What is it, lass?"

Raksha shook her head, "No idea, but it's not the first I've found. I've been collecting them mostly because I just get the feeling I'll need them for something. Maybe they'll sell very well at the Mage's College. I'm sure they'd be interested in some sort of weird Dwarven globe."

Brynjolf grinned under his mask, "Got an eye for valuable items, aye lass?"

After that, they were set upon by more Falmer as they ventured further into the tunnels, coming across a small tunnel. There were large pipes running above them, which Karliah pointed out, "Listen... I can here water running in these pipes."

"We must be under a river or a lake." Etienne commented, then asked, "Wonder what the Dwarves would've used lake-water for."

Brynjolf thought about it for a moment, "Probably got something to do with how they forged the materials for all these devices in the first place." He glanced behind him at Etienne, "You've got a couple of keen eyes, lad."

The Breton blushed under his mask. Karliah returned their minds to the task at hand, leading them into what was, according to the map in Gallus' journal, the room where the Eyes of the Falmer were located, and with them, Mercer Frey.

* * *

Inside, they could see Mercer, standing on the face of the statue and prying off the second of the two huge gems that were set in its eyes. With his back to them, Karliah whispered to them that he probably didn't know they were there. At least, until Mercer turned around to face them, pale blue Magicka swirling around him, "Karliah, Karliah, when will you ever learn that you can't sneak up on me?" With that, he cast some sort of ritual spell, enveloping him in a sphere of blue energy and causing a violent release of Magicka that caused the pipes above them to rupture.

The sound of daggers being drawn drew Etienne and Raksha's attention behind them as Brynjolf, no longer in control of his own body, with red bands of Illusion Magicka swirling around him, tried to stop himself as he swung at Karliah, attempting to gut the Dunmer. Karliah yelled at Etienne and Raksha to stop Mercer as he vanished from sight. The duo leaped off the platform to fight him. "Mercer! Come out and fight!" Etienne yelled against the rushing water. With the pipes above them cracked and broken, water was slowly filling the cavern, giving them a sense of urgency.

A hand shot out from thin air and wrapped around Raksha's neck as Mercer dispelled his Invisibility, "One wrong move and the cat dies." Etienne had his Nightingale Blade readied to taste Mercer's blood, but now he seemed hesitant. That was all Mercer needed, "Good boy, now be a good little Nightingale and stand still!" He held his hand out and shot forth a shadowy bolt of Magicka that struck Etienne, causing a link to form as Mercer drained the Breton's life-force right out of him.

The Dragon had other ideas, and Raksha realized that keeping her secret would get them killed. Despite being in Mercer's chokehold, she managed to choke out, "Wuh... _Wuld_!" She was shot forward, stumbling Mercer as the Wind carried her halfway across the chamber. She regained her own footing just in time to dodge another shadow bolt that Mercer flung at her. Etienne had recovered his strength and charged at Mercer, surprising the Guildmaster with his sudden speed and managing to slash him across the chest. There was a red and green glow as Mercer lost his stamina and life Etienne. This didn't stop him as he drew his Dwarven sword and swung at Etienne.

Raksha regretted not having any ranged abilities beyond her Shouts, and her Illusion magic, which in this context was useless. Thinking quickly, she yelled at Etienne to move. He parried a blow from Mercer, then kicked him back. Raksha took the time to turn the tables, " _Fus Ro Dah_!" Mercer was flung across the cavern, landing on his back and barely clinging to his blades. Etienne charged at him and, in a moment's notice, ran him through with the Nightingale Blade. As Mercer died, the effect he had cast on Brynjolf dissipated, while something fell from his pockets. Raksha pointed at it, "The Skeleton Key! Etienne, grab it!"

The Breton lunged for the Daedric Artifact, grabbing it just before it fell into the water. When he held the Skeleton Key, he felt strange. While he held the artifact in his hand, it felt as though, even though he had never actually trained in anything, he felt as though he understood how to apply what he knew to its greatest capacity. The power was very tempting, and he could see why Mercer kept it for himself. However, he had figured out by now that whatever had happened to the Thieves' Guild had happened because of this thing, and he'd need to know how to get this curse to stop, and Karliah was his best bet. In the meantime, however, they needed to get out of this place.

Brynjolf tried the door, "It won't budge!" Raksha ran up to him and together, the two of them tried to push the door open to no avail.

Karliah remained calm, even as the waters rose and she began swimming out toward where Etienne was frantically searching for a way out, "Be calm. Nocturnal will show us the way."

The water was filling the cavern up fast, and soon, Raksha found herself bracing against the ceiling, taking a deep breath as the cavern flooded. Daring to open her eyes underwater, Night-eye active to help her see better, Raksha soon noticed the three Nightingales, each with a black fog obscuring their eyes, leaving only white pinpoints to show that they even had eyes. There was a distant, muffled rumble as part of the ceiling collapsed suddenly. The hole led into a cave, and Raksha swam toward it, feeling her lungs burning and begging for air. She surfaced, gasping, and dragged herself onto the cave floor. Taking a few long, deep breaths, she suddenly realized that none of the others had surfaced yet. She crawled back to the edge of the water, and for a moment, she saw nothing, until a figure clad in black appeared, cloak flowing behind them. She couldn't tell who it was, but reached into the water and grabbed their hand. As she helped the Nightingale out, she realized that it was Karliah. With the Dark Elf safely out of the water, she turned back to see two more Nightingales and once again, reached for their hand. The next one to surface was Brynjolf, and after him was Etienne.

Karliah seemed somewhat pleased, "Mercer's gone, and we have the Key now. All that's left is to return it to its rightful place."

Brynjolf stared back into the water, "If only we were able to get the Eyes of the Falmer, as well."

A small cough turned their attention to Etienne, where he held one massive gemstone in each hand. Brynjolf smiled, "Well, well. Now that's what I would consider very good luck."

Etienne tossed one of the gemstones to Brynjolf. As the Nord admired the shiny gemstone, Etienne handed the second one to Raksha, "Here. I'm sure this counts as evening the score." Raksha looked confused, until he explained, "Someone's gonna have to fence that, and I would, but the Skeleton Key needs to be taken care of first. Besides, I'm sure you could use the coin, right?"

Raksha didn't know what to say, so Karliah took the chance to speak, "I must apologize for my brash behavior earlier, Dragonborn. If I'd known just who you were among our ranks, I might not have been so harsh about your decision earlier."

Raksha shook her head, returning to reality, "I... never meant to tell anyone. The Thalmor have been searching for me ever since I was a kitten. Apparently they had ways of knowing that I had the Dragon Blood, so I'd been running so long that I ran from myself. That's who Alyssa was, a naïve young Khajiit with no real idea of what she was getting into, but not a real threat to the Thalmor." She turned to Brynjolf and Karliah, "I know the idea of having the Dragonborn in the Thieves' Guild is amazing, but please try to keep this a secret, and please don't let that change your standards."

Brynjolf grinned, "Lass, I'd say that you've already more than proved yourself to the Thieves' Guild. If anything, you've proven yourself worthy of a promotion to Guildmaster, Dragonborn or not." He turned to Karliah and asked, "Would you like to attend her promotion ceremony?"

Karliah thought about it for a moment, then said, "As much as I would like to, I feel that I should go with Etienne. He has no idea what he'll face on the Pilgrim's Path, and the only way I can make peace with Nocturnal is to face her again and ensure the return of the Skeleton Key. For what it's worth, from all that I've heard of her accomplishments, she's earned my vote for Guildmaster."

Brynjolf nodded, "That settles it then." He turned to Raksha, "Meet me at the Ragged Flagon and I'll arrange the ceremony."

* * *

When Raksha had returned to the Ragged Flagon, everyone had gathered in the Cistern, save for Dirge and Vekel, who directed her toward it. Inside the Cistern, she found Brynjolf, having changed out of his Nightingale gear and returned to his Guildmaster gear for the sake of the ceremony. As she walked up to the center of the Cistern, Brynjolf began the ceremony, "Look, I'm not that good at fancy words, so I'm just gonna get straight to the point. I think you should be the next Guildmaster." He turned to Delvin, "What do you think, Delvin?"

"I'd say, she's rightfully earned it." Delvin winked at Raksha, knowing that she knew he had told her of his opinion a little while ago.

Satisfied, Brynjolf then asked Vex, who replied, "Sure, why not?"

Brynjolf returned his attention to Raksha, "Then, that settles it. You're a Guildmaster."

Raksha was a little surprised, "...That's all there is to it?"

Brynjolf grinned, "Well, I guess I forgot about this." He pulled a small, triangular amulet out of his pocket, "A little trinket that comes with the job. Expect to find that it'll be much easier to persuade people to do what you want. And, if you want your new armor, talk to Tonilia."

With that, he handed her the amulet, and then everyone promptly returned to their own duties. Raksha took the time to go and speak with Tonilia, who had a new suit of Guildmaster leathers readied for her. Unlike her Thieves' Guild gear, the Guildmaster gear was black, like what she had expected, and the enchantments on it were much stronger than on her own suit. She took the gear, then went somewhere private to change into her new armor. She found that it fitted her perfectly, apparently it had been custom-fitted for her, and it felt like there was significantly more padding, like she could actually block a slash from a sword with it. She'd take it to the workbench that the blacksmith down her had set up to fit it better later, but at the moment, she was admiring the feel of it. Before she flipped up the hood to try it on, she slipped the Amulet of Articulation on, taking the Gauldur Amulet off and stuffing it in her pocket. After that, she pulled the hood up and over her head, and realized that it had even been tailored with two holes to let her ears stand freely, instead of being uncomfortably flattened. She admired the look of it, then returned to Tonilia to turn in her old Thieves' Guild gear, seeing as she didn't need it anymore.

"Well, how do they feel, boss?"

Raksha realized that she'd never truly get used to hearing that and replied, "They fit very well. I truly appreciate this."

Tonilia smiled, "That's good. That means I did good."

She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to come face to face with Brynjolf, who gestured for her to follow him to a more private location. Once they were out of earshot, Brynjolf spoke, "Listen, lass. I know, being a Guildmaster is a big responsibility, but really, all you need to do is just stop by and check in every now and again. Vex, Delvin, and I can handle it while you're gone."

Raksha raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

Brynjolf grinned, "You're destined for much greater things than just being a master thief, Lass. After all, what's a Dragonborn without Dragons?" Raksha remembered that he knew about her, and his only response was to say, "I'll keep it a secret, but go and enjoy yourself. Go travel, help the needy, steal from the greedy, meet new people, discover new places, steal something valuable. Who knows, maybe someday, we'll be coming to visit your Guild."

* * *

Khayla was waiting for her, just outside the Thieves' Guild secret entrance in the Riften Graveyard. When she saw Raksha decked out in her new gear, she couldn't help a small grin, "Someone's been a busy Khajiit."

Raksha grinned, "I have. I've been promoted to Guildmaster. The other Guildmasters agreed to hold down the fort while we do as we please." She held Khayla's hand, pulling down her hood, "Like something I've wanted to do for a while." She pulled out an Amulet of Mara and placed it in Khayla's hand, "Khayla, will you be my mate? Will you stand by my side and allow me to stand by your side for the rest of our days?"

Khayla smiled, "Yes!" With that, Raksha closed the small distance between them and kissed the Khajiit. After that, they set about, preparing for their wedding.

* * *

A/N

→ Personally, I've always found it kinda strange that out of all the Daedric Quests, you can't refuse to pledge yourself to Nocturnal or even resist her to complete the Thieves' Guild Quest-line (After all, you can _choose_ to resist Hermaeus Mora and make it clear that you go where you please, no matter how much he claims to own you, and you can choose to avoid finishing 'Discerning the Transmundane' and thus pledging yourself to the aforementioned Prince. You can also cure your Lycanthropy as part of the Companions, or your Vampirism as part of the Volkihar Clan, or straight-up choose to become a member of the Dawnguard instead, you can even choose to destroy the Dark Brotherhood instead of pledging yourself to Sithis, fer cryin' out loud!), which I felt to be a bit odd. So, I came up with this possibly crazy idea to present _one possible_ way that it could have gone, much like what I did with the whole Paarthurnax ordeal.

→ Side note: Even though she has completed the main quest-line and "Discerning the Transmundane," (She was curious about the Dwemer Lock Box after Septimus piqued her interest) she never took the Oghma Infinium in the hopes that it would keep Hermaeus Mora away from her despite his claims that she's his champion. We'll learn more about this whole ordeal during the "Dragonborn" quest-line. Side-side-note: She's stopped pursuing Restoration Magic in favor of Stealth and Illusion. At the moment, her Skills are along the lines of: One-handed 75, Light Armor 80, Stealth 100, and Illusion 100. Side-side-side-note: I have this headcanon that with the Muffle spell equipped in the Left hand, it muffles any sounds the victim would make when the player stealth-kills them (I know it only looks like that with a high sneak skill, that's what inspired me).

→ The idea being that instead of pledging yourself, you select someone who you feel is worthy (Likely only available if you have already accomplished all the City Influence Quests [recruit so many new people and gain new store-owners], restored the Crown of Barenziah [no easy task...] and completed 'Diplomatic Immunity' [rescuing Etienne]), meaning giving up your own Nightingale Gear as well as the opportunity to use certain Nightingale powers, in exchange for basically proving yourself to the Guild in other ways to become Guildmaster. Thus, you can still feel like you earned that position without having to rely on a Daedra's 'blessing' and instead doing so through your own skill. After all, how were Brynjolf, Delvin, and Vex able to earn their positions if becoming a Nightingale was required and they honestly believed that the latter were fictional and have never been shown to be such (Brynjolf joining after the fact, notwithstanding). I think all that would change is that you would still have to fight Mercer, then give the Skeleton Key to the Nightingale in your place, then have you help him or her fight and solve their way through the Pilgrim's Path so that they could return the Skeleton Key. Chillrend would still probably be kept outside of the quest-line if the player chose to get it.


	15. Unity of the Dragon

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. Original Content © Me.

* * *

One-shot #6: Unity of the Dragon

* * *

→ Spoilers for the Mages' College quest-line. Also, small previews of some new quest-lines that I have planned out.

* * *

Word must've traveled that one of the Guildmasters was finally getting married, because only a day had passed and nearly everyone in the Ragged Flagon was congratulating Raksha and Khayla. They had their arrangements set up with the Temple of Mara, and Raksha wanted to see about buying some fancy clothes for the occasion. Brynjolf was happy to oblige, lending her some fine clothes to try on. As she did, she eventually asked him where he got it from, to which he politely declined to answer.

Once she got the fine clothes to fit, she packed them up, changing back into her Guildmaster armor, and was preparing to leave when Delvin approached her, "Hey, you got a moment?"

Raksha paused, "What's wrong?"

Delvin shook his head, "Nothin'. At least, as far as I know. But the guy in full Legionnaire armor standing outside the Ragged Flagon does seem a bit suspicious right now."

"What's a Legionnaire doing here? Shouldn't he be polishing a spear for the Thalmor or something?" She muttered, earning a few snickers from someone off to the side. While at the moment, only Brynjolf and Karliah knew she was Dragonborn, most of the Thieves' Guild knew that she had something of a sore history with the Legion, mostly through hearsay and what little she said about it. She also knew very well that there were a lot perceptive minds in the Guild that probably connected the dots between Alyssa and Raksha and determined that they were the same person, but if they did, they hadn't bothered her about it.

Delvin shook his head, "Maybe, that's none of my business. But what is my business concerns the fact that he called himself General Tulius, and stated that he was looking for you specifically, even called you by name and everything, Boss."

That surprised the Khajiit, "Tulius? Here? This has gotta be some sick joke."

"Maybe it is, but if so, perhaps you could persuade the fella to go take his sword and shove it, eh?"

Raksha gave in, "Fine, I'll go see what he wants. But I _do_ have things to do."

Delvin's reply was as smug as his grin, "Like giving the lady the time of her life in the bedroom, aye?"

"Bite me."

* * *

She wasn't sure it was a prank anymore once she saw the golden embroideries and the familiar, stern eyes of her former superior sitting at Vekel's bar. The moment General Tulius saw her, he stood up from his bench and walked toward her. Her hand clenched into a fist as the General approached her, "So, you leave the Legion and this is where you end up? You really don't have any loyalty to the Empire anymore, do you?"

Raksha bit back a snarl and replied, "I was part of the Thieves' Guild well before I actually joined the Legion. This was the only place where I could get training for the skills I needed outside of the Guild without raising eyebrows." She crossed her arms, "And don't think that you can convince me to come back to the Legion."

Tulius shook his head, "I know you forge your own path in the world, and if I wanted you to come back to the Legion, I'd have brought a full battalion with me, even though I'm well aware that you could easily tear through several of them." He ignored Raksha's eye roll and continued, "But I do need your help with something. Something that might suit your particular set of skills."

Raksha shook her head, "How did you even know that I had changed my name and face? And what makes you think that I'd be willing to even listen? I have things to do."

"What, like your wedding?" That made Raksha pause. Tulius, seeing that he had her attention, continued, "Maramal told everyone about it, saying the Dragonborn was getting married the next day. That was yesterday. That makes today your wedding, right? Well, how would you like it if your mate were to disappear right before her wedding?"

Raksha snarled, her hand immediately brushing against the hilt of her Ebony Sword, "You wouldn't _dare_ touch her!"

Tulius remained neutral, "No, I wouldn't, nor would anyone in the Legion. But someone might, because people are already being targeted. Everywhere, there are people that are disappearing, vanishing in a vortex of Magicka. Some of them even return, dead. Two days ago, I received word that Ondolemar vanished in the middle of a rant directed toward the steward, only for his corpse to appear mid-air above the Markarth markets. And just yesterday, I'd heard that the Thalmor emissary known as Ancano was killed at the College of Winterhold. These being only most recent in a string of mysterious deaths and disappearances. Elenwen thinks I'm behind the disappearance of her emissaries, but I'm not. I need you to look into these disappearances, because I'm getting worried that otherwise, the Aldmeri Dominion might just choose to destroy us before we have time to investigate. You've got the skills and the willingness to go beyond the reach of the law to do it, and if you do, I will grant you and everyone in the Thieves' Guild a full pardon from all previous crimes."

Raksha shrugged, "So? The Thalmor are disappearing and dying? That's the Legion's problem, not mine." Raksha turned to return to the Cistern to practice her speech, "Now, if you don't mind, I have a wedding to attend."

Tulius growled, "At least look into it! It's more than just the Thalmor, and you know as well as I do that Elenwen could care less about it! Those are innocent people you're condemning if you refuse to help us out!"

Raksha sighed, knowing that he really wasn't going to leave until she promised to at least look into this whole thing, "Alright, fine. I'll take a look." She really hated that he was using her desire to help others against her. She'd been questioning herself about that since joining the Guild and having to bully others into helping her just to prove herself, never mind forging so many numbers and stealing rare artifacts. She wondered if Tulius somehow knew she was questioning her decision to join the Guild in the first place.

* * *

 _Two Days Ago_...

In front of the trio was a large set of double doors. Here was where the Staff of Magnus was believed to be. A day ago, Merandil Chaeal, Fultheim the Fearless, and Zaara Azahri had managed to discern the location of the Staff, along with the horrifying truth that Ancano was trying to tap into the Eye of Magnus so that he could accomplish his goal, the goal that Merandil feared he was here for: To Unmake Mundus and Ascend to Godhood. Now, Arch-mage Savos Aren was dead, the Master Wizard was probably dead, and if they couldn't succeed here, then all of reality would be more than just dead.

Merandil lifted up the large torque up toward the door, wondering what he was supposed to do with it. He then noticed a statuesque decoration on the door, roughly the size of his head, along with two indentations that made him curious. He slipped the torque into the indentations and commented, "It's a perfect fit!" The torque suddenly moved on its own, raising up and hitting the huge door three times. The crack between the two doors glowed as it was unsealed and the doors slowly swung open.

As they moved into the Nordic Ruin of Labyrinthian, the huge doors slammed shut behind them. Zaara jumped, drawing a curved short-sword, much like what Fultheim saw on a couple Hammerfell mercenaries, albeit straighter, and with a flatter cross-guard than those scimitars. Fultheim, uncertain of what to expect, followed her idea and unsheathed his Warhammer in preparation for a fight. Merandil's hands began glowing, one hand alight with orange Flames, the other a white and blue Ward. He looked around, then pointed toward the large staircase, "Looks like the only way we can go is forward for now."

Fultheim tried the door based on a suspicion, "...Damn, locked."

Zaara corrected him, "Not locked. Sealed. Can't you feel the flow of Magicka?"

Fultheim shook his head, "I couldn't tell you what that felt like. I can't even feel that Merandil's a mage, and I think I've known him longer than you."

Merandil raised a hand, "She's right. The door's not locked, it's been sealed shut. Whatever was sealed down here must be truly powerful if the torque was only enchanted to unseal it temporarily." He closed his eyes and held his hands out. The readied spells faded as he tried to feel the flow of Magicka. There was a faint, light blue glow about him as he did, and when he opened his eyes, he cast a new spell, Clairvoyance, that revealed a series of pale, blue lines heading toward the stairway.

In front of them, a small assemblage of spectral figures appeared. They all wore college robes and at first Merandil was ready with a Firebolt until Zaara stopped him. "Wait, they don't seem to have noticed us."

Merandil paused and listened in among the ghostly chatter. He realized he could hear a familiar voice that he realized was Savos Aren's voice. Despite the ethereal quality, it sounded younger, excited, vigorous. He realized that the ghosts were talking about the Staff of Magnus, and their plans to search for it. The ghosts faded and Fultheim asked, "What was that? How come those ghosts didn't notice us?"

Suddenly, everything clicked and Merandil remembered something that Drevis had taught him about Clairvoyance, "They weren't ghosts."

Fultheim looked irritated, "If they weren't ghosts, what were they?"

"Memories." Merandil walked deeper into the barrow, toward where the ghosts had been standing, and stood where they had. He gestured for the others to follow while he explained the principles behind Magical Echoes.

The trio soon managed to find a large, open area in the tomb. As they went into the room, a gate shut behind them and swirling bands of Magicka erupted from the walls, reaching into the ground and pouring into something that they realized was buried underneath. The ground rumbled and exploded beneath them as a massive skeletal form crawled out of its tomb. With a small taste of the Magicka it desperately needed to properly resurrect animating its ancient bones, the Skeletal Dragon roared, despite having no flesh with which to make the horrendous noise. It crawled toward them, opening its maw to unleash a gust of Frost Magic that barreled toward Fultheim. He barely had time to try and dodge it when a blue and white aura appeared in front of him. He realized that the Lilmothiit had managed to maneuver herself between the Skeletal Dragon and the Nord, and from her outstretched hand spiraled a fog-like spell that formed the Ward absorbing the Skeletal Dragon's frost magic. Zaara concentrated on her Ward, trying to keep it from breaking as the Undead monster finally let up.

Merandil took the opportunity to dual-cast a Fireball that caught the Dragon's attention. He waved his arms, yelled, and did as much as he could to make himself noticeable to the Skeletal Dragon. The Dragon turned to face him and Merandil readied his own Ward as the Dragon attempted to blow him down with more frost magic. Unfortunately, Merandil was only able to keep it up for a moment before the frost magic broke through his Ward and the cold, unforgiving wind bit into him. He yelled and ran in an attempt to get behind one of the pillars in the room. He cursed for not realizing sooner that he hadn't practiced his Restoration magic more before getting caught up in all of this. He hid behind the pillar as the frost magic flew around it, taking the time to cast his own healing spell to recover from the Undead Dragon's attack. He knew that at least he had the Dragon's attention for a moment, just enough for the others to have their opening.

He heard Zaara yell out a battlecry as she launched a spell at the monster. The flash of light prompted him to glimpse around the pillar to see what that was. The Skeletal Dragon had recoiled as a sort of Magic similar to fire burned into it. He saw the Lilmothiit to the side as Fultheim smacked the Dragon right in its skull with his Warhammer. She had a spell in her hands that he had never seen before. It looked somewhat like a Magelight spell, but it had a shine like a healing spell. He watched as she curled both hands around the spell, charging it up, then releasing, sending forth a ball of swirling, shimmering light at the beast, striking it in the side and creating an explosion of light that scorched the cursed bones, but left Fultheim untouched despite being well within the blast radius. Fultheim took the opportunity to climb onto the Skeletal Dragon's skull as the beast tried to snap its jaws where he had been standing. He had a different idea, taking care to balance himself on top of the beast's head, where he raised his Warhammer and brought it down to crack the dragon skull wide open. Whatever was holding the monster together left immediately as the Skeletal Dragon collapsed into a mountain of bones.

By all rights, Fultheim felt like celebrating, given that they had just taken down a _Dragon_ , and an _Undead_ one at that, but he couldn't find it in himself to rejoice, because his mind was wandering, trying to find answers as to what Magic could be so strong that it could bring a Dragon back to life as its thrall. He then noticed Merandil walk out from behind the pillar and commented on it, "You alright? That looked like quite a blow you took."

Merandil shrugged, "Nothing a little healing Magic couldn't fix. Speaking of which..." The High Elf turned to Zaara, "I've never seen magic like that before. I'll admit that I haven't been able to focus much on my studies of Restoration because expanding my Destruction had taken precedent, but even still..."

Zaara held up her hand, summoning her Magicka into the same spell she had been using earlier, "This? This spell is known as Vampire's Bane. I bought the spell tome for it and a couple other spells off this decent, if eccentric fellow in exchange for his silence about my existence. He said he was heading over to this place called Ruunvald for some reason, wouldn't say why, and I didn't care much to find out." At Merandil's silent prompting, she explained what the spell was, "The spell recreates the light of Magnus, but concentrated with such intensity that it will burn away false life, leaving those that are truly alive untouched."

Merandil was impressed, "Quite an interesting spell. Is that in any way related to the Turn Undead spell?"

Zaara shrugged, "They are part of the Restoration school of magic, just like Wards. The person who sold the tomes to me told me that the people who first made the Sunfire spell that he derived Vampire's Bane from were a group of vampire hunters. They used this spell specifically to combat Vampires with the same force of a Destruction spell, but without risking casualties from the uninfected. Whether it was intended or not, this spell will affect _all_ undead, which makes it useful against a wider variety of enemies other than those bloodsucking freaks."

Fultheim grinned, "Well, it sure helped out against that undead Dragon." He became serious again, "But we still have to find the Staff, and stop whatever was able to resurrect a Dragon from the dead in addition to that Thalmor back at the College."

They continued through the tomb, encountering more Draugr and Skeletons, even a Wispmother, and all the while, they were spoken to by an otherworldly voice that seemed to be taunting them, claiming that they were not quite as grand as Savos Aren, all the while, echoes of the Arch-mage's younger self as the group he traveled with kept getting smaller and smaller.

* * *

 _Present time_...

"Do you agree to be bound together, now and forever?" Maramal asked Khayla, who smiled and said that she agreed. He turned to Raksha and repeated the question. She glanced at Khayla and smiled, taking her hand and replying that she agreed as well. With that, Maramal pronounced them to be a couple and presented them with matching rings, gold with a single sapphire embedded into each one.

With that taken care of, the guests began to leave, and with them, Khayla and Raksha followed. Khayla decided to ask about their living arrangements, "You could always travel with me and the Caravan. Who knows, perhaps we could return to Elsweyr someday. I could teach you our language, or our culture."

Raksha gave her a warm smile, "I know plenty about our culture, but I would appreciate lessons on our language. As for travel arrangements..." She paused to think about it, then came to a decision, "I may go on ahead and sell the properties I own in the other Holds. But I'll keep Honeyside, it's close to the Guild, and has a back-door right out of Riften."

Khayla paused for a moment, "Do you expect me to stay there?"

Raksha laughed at the notion, "No! I just want to have somewhere that we can stay if we ever need to. The Rift is the warmest of the nine Holds, as far as I can tell."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw three people entering the front gate of Riften. One of them was a High Elf, but he wasn't dressed in Thalmor robes, which gave her a small sense of relief. One figure was completely cloaked, she couldn't recognize her at all. The Nord bringing up the rear of the group looked very familiar, if a bit hairier than she remembered. She paused in her stride, prompting Khayla to stop as well. The two then noticed the strange staff holstered on the Elf's back, and its strange glow. The cloaked figure next to them was clearly not Mer or Man, if the tan ears poking out were any indication. The strange stares that the group was getting gave Raksha a small hint of suspicion. Khayla decided to ask her mate, "Do you know them?"

Raksha bit her lip, then answered, "Just the Nord. I saved him from the Dark Brotherhood. I'd heard a bit about him since then, apparently he joined..." She paused in thought, "I think it was the Companions?"

Khayla felt a bit suspicious, "Do you suppose he's a Werewolf?"

Raksha shrugged, honestly not sure. Before she could do anything else, Fultheim's voice called out to her, "Hail, friend!" She glanced back at the group just in time to gasp in surprise as Fultheim sweeped his muscular arms around her, giving her a great big hug. It didn't take much for the bigger Nord to actually lift her off the ground with little trouble in the middle of his hug, then set her down. He placed both hands on her shoulders and have her a great big smile, "It has been a while!"

Raksha gave Khayla a quick glance, only to see that the latter Khajiit was just as confused as she was, then turned to Fultheim and asked, "How did you know it was me?"

Fultheim grinned and replied, "No change of fur and eye color can really hide that compassion that saved me from certain death. And besides, I heard the Dragonborn was getting married and simply had to stop by to congratulate you!" He didn't feel like mentioning that part of it was an uncomfortable feeling in the back of his head, a tiny, hint of a whisper, questioning his acceptance and begging him to challenge her with his voice, but he ignored it and gestured to his friends, "There's a couple people I wanted you to meet. They've been looking for you for a little while now. It's a bit of a delicate situation though, so we might wanna find somewhere private."

Raksha glanced toward Khayla and said, "We might wanna head over to Honeyside for now."

* * *

 _Two Days ago (Give or take a couple hours)_...

Zaara wasn't sure how long they'd been traversing this damned tomb now. But whoever still haunted this place wasn't just powerful, he was toying with them, and of that she was well aware of by now. It didn't help that part of this was brought on by the fact that he seemed to love throwing puzzles at them along with opponents that were surprisingly difficult to deal with. She had her Meteoric Steel Scimitar ripped from her hands a couple times due to those damned Draugr. Fultheim had called them Deathlords. She had reached a point where she didn't care what they were called, just that the ones with the horned helmets had those Words that could somehow knock her weapon loose without ever even touching her. Those Words that somehow, and she wasn't sure how she knew, were somehow related to that one Word that somehow held all three of them in a trance for just a moment, that strange, glowing carving on a wall.

But, they were still making progress, and given Merandil's usage of Clairvoyance, they could see that they were close to the Staff by now. All that stood between them was a large set of double doors. As Fultheim opened them, Zaara felt the need to ask, "Are all Nordic Ruins this huge?"

Fultheim shrugged, "Maybe only the ones built for the Dragon Priests. Beyond that, I wouldn't know. I don't usually like to venture into tombs, especially after that business with Ysgramor's Tomb." He pulled open the doors and the three of them beheld an incredible (and slightly terrifying) sight. Powerful beams of light shot from two different spots on a wall that seemed to be feeding into an incredibly strong force-field. Inside the force-field was what looked like a Draugr wearing ornate golden robes and a gray mask over his face. In one hand, he had a shock spell that he couldn't seem to move to cast, and in the other hand he had a strange staff, the head of which was glowing with teal light.

The realization hit them all at the same time as Merandil voiced what they were all thinking, "The Staff of Magnus!" Fultheim was about to rush in to try and take the Staff when Merandil and Zaara both stopped him, with the High Elf commenting on the incredible power being used to contain the Dragon Priest, "The Barrier holding that thing might very well be impenetrable by physical means as well as magical. However, that doesn't mean that we can't get to the Staff." He gestured to the two points of light where the Magic feeding into the barrier was originating from, "We might have to free him to even come close to getting the Staff. I know that sounds like a bad idea, but we don't have any alternatives right now. It would take too long to try and figure out how we breach the barrier otherwise, and Ancano might still be trying to regain control of the Eye. You and I will go and disable the Barrier." He turned to Zaara, "Think you can ready that Vampire's Bane spell to hit him with as soon as the field's down?"

Zaara nodded, "He won't know what hit him."

The group split up, with Merandil and Fultheim heading up to the balcony of sorts to try and disable the barrier while Zaara silently crept up to the imprisoned Dragon Priest. She twirled her hands a bit to summon the Vampire's Bane spell, then charged it into a dual-cast form. She didn't know any good rune spells to use to set a trap, but if she did, she had an idea of where she'd stick one rune as soon as the barrier went down.

To their shock, Merandil and Fultheim found that the sources of Magicka that were holding up the barrier were none other than enthralled ghosts of old college students, constantly pouring whatever they had left into the barrier. When Fultheim approached one of them, the ghost turned on him and clawed at him, its ethereal hands still real enough that even though they passed right through him, he felt all the pain of something drawing sharp knives across his arm. He kicked the ghost, stopping when he realized that he was able to do that, then drew his Warhammer and swung it downward, hitting the ghost right in the chest and destabilizing it, causing it to collapse into a puddle of ghostly matter.

As if something clicked, the barrier violently exploded, causing the second ghost to melt just like the first as the Dragon Priest broke free. Zaara took the opportunity to shoot the ball of Sunlight in her hands at the Dragon Priest. The priest was caught in the ensuing explosion and staggered, but recovered almost immediately, despite the yellow flames burning at it. The Dragon Priest merely laughed it off as he cast a spell, Lightning Cloak, then pointed the staff directly at Zaara. She raised her Ward, but when the Staff of Magnus activated, it broke right through her Ward as the beam lanced right through her. She flew back and hit the wall. As she fell to the floor, Merandil realized she was in trouble and flung a fireball at Morokei. The fireball stumbled the Dragon Priest, burning through his Lightning Cloak and turning his attention to the High Elf. Merandil realized that he was in trouble as the Dragon Priest turned the Staff of Magnus on him, firing a powerful beam of magic that he narrowly managed to dodge. The Dragon Priest shot at him once again and Merandil dived to the ground to avoid the beam. He looked up and realized that Fultheim was nowhere to be seen.

Fultheim had managed to get behind the Dragon Priest and with a yell, he swung the Warhammer and struck the Dragon Priest right in the back. The Priest fell onto the ground, dropping the Staff as he did. Morokei looked up, then began to try and pull himself back up, only to cry out suddenly as Zaara leaped out at him, Scimitar at the ready, and stabbed him right in the back. The Dragon Priest's body seemed to just disintegrate, leaving only the Staff, his robes, and his Mask.

Fultheim was about to celebrate when he noticed that Zaara was shaking, and her left hand was covering her side. She let go of her sword and started to tumble forward, stopping only because the Nord managed to catch her in time, "Hey, you'll be alright." He looked up and yelled for Merandil to get down from the balcony and help them.

The High Elf ran down to them and got down on his knees as Fultheim held Zaara, trying to reassure her. He then looked up at Merandil, an unspoken plea meeting the Elf's gaze. He sighed, "I don't know much about Restoration, but I'll see what I can do."

Zaara raised her right hand, a ball of yellow Magicka forming in her palm, "It's... It's alright. You just... heal me as m-much as... as you can. I'll do the r-rest." Merandil tensed and proceeded to form his own healing spells. He then cast them on Zaara, creating bands of yellow light that swept across her body, doing what it could to fix the wound, but only managing to temporarily halt the bleeding. Whatever he'd managed to accomplish, it was enough that she was able to pick up where he left off, casting her healing spell on herself, having recovered enough strength from Merandil's spell to do so. Fultheim just sat there amazed as her own healing spell managed to do much more. What Merandil's spell had accomplished, Zaara's built on that, reconnecting severed blood vessels and damaged nerves, fixing torn muscles and mending the wound to the point where it wasn't really visible any longer.

Fultheim exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, then have Zaara a small grin, "You'll be okay."

The Lilmothiit nodded, then gestured to her pack, "Green bottle, get it out."

Fultheim dug through the pack and eventually pulled out a small round bottle, "This it?"

"...That's a poison. Light green bottle."

Fultheim put the poison away and pulled out the light green bottle and held it up for her to see, "Is this it?"

"Yeah. Uncork it." He pulled the cork off and held the bottle up to Zaara's mouth. She took small sips of the potion, then once she'd finished it off, sighed and went limp as her eyes closed.

Fultheim and Merandil looked at each other, then back to her as Fultheim asked, "...Um? You still there?"

Her eyes shot open and she looked at the two of them for a moment, then pulled herself onto her feet, "What're you two waiting for? We've still got a maniac at the College to deal with." Merandil and Fultheim exchanged glances, then stood up as she gestured to Morokei's remains, "Fultheim, take that mask. It'll be a good trophy. Merandil, get the Staff." She went to get her sword, but as soon as she took a single step, she wobbled and almost fell over, prompting Fultheim to rush to her side and brace her against himself. She grunted in frustration, "I... I guess I don't have my strength back just yet." She winced and let out a small whimper as Fultheim reached for her Scimitar and sheathed it for her.

Merandil picked up the Staff of Magnus, taking note of how it felt in his hands. There was a certain allure to the power, but it wasn't quite like a Daedric Artifact. He admitted that he had seen firsthand the lure of power that a Daedric Artifact presented, and this didn't feel like that. He turned to Zaara and Fultheim, the latter half-carrying the former. He felt a ping of regret, knowing that the staff he held had nearly killed her. He shook his head, reminding himself that it was the _Dragon Priest_ that did that. He was brought back to his senses when Fultheim got his attention, "Hey, you coming or what?"

The trio made their way up the stairs that were conveniently located near the end of the Barrow. At the top, Merandil pulled a chain that opened a gate, then the trio made their way toward the large double doors in front of them, hoping that this would take them right out of Labyrinthian. As they did, the doors suddenly opened and a Thalmor Justiciar walked toward them, Sparks of lightning arcing across his arms as he advanced upon them. He stopped upon seeing the Staff of Magnus on Merandil's back, "So, you made it out alive? Ancano was right. You _are_ dangerous. I'm afraid I'll have to take that Staff. Oh, and it's nothing personal."

Zaara growled at him, "You'll get nothing from us, Thalmor swine!"

Estormo sneered, "You're in no position to talk, fox whore. Everyone believes your kind to be dead, who am I to disappoint them?" He turned to Merandil, "And you. You'll be rewarded exactly as a traitor such as yourself deserves." Merandil drew the Staff and held it in one hand, Flames flickering in his other hand as Estormo continued, "And you, Nord. Are you truly that thick-headed to follow an inferior Mer such as him?"

Merandil pointed the Staff at Estormo and shot a powerful beam of Magic, casting a gout of Flames alongside it. Estormo didn't even have the chance to think about fighting back as the pure, awesome power of the Staff of Magnus burned right through him, causing the Justiciar to disintegrate in a moment's notice. Merandil wished he had some witty comeback to say, but frankly was just too furious to really think of one, so he settled for, "No-one insults my friends and threatens me like that."

Fultheim commented on that, "Gods... Remind me to never get on your bad side."

Merandil turned to Fultheim and Zaara, his voice calm despite the seething anger in his eyes, "We need to return to the College. Now!"

* * *

 _Present Time_...

Raksha sat down on her bed while Khayla took a seat next to her. Fultheim leaned against the wall while the Elf, who had introduced himself as Merandil Chaeal, and the cloaked figure, revealing herself to be a Lilmothiit by the name of Zaara Azahri, leaned against the dresser. Raksha took a moment to recall everything, "So, just so that I understand correctly, you and Merandil ventured into an ancient tomb and battled a Dragon Priest to get an Aedric Relic that you used to kill Ancano and stop all of Nirn from being unmade?"

Fultheim nodded, "Yeah, but that was only part of it."

Raksha nodded, "Right, so a person claiming to be from an island in the same plane as Lyg, which nobody even knows for sure exists, where the Thalmor are allegedly trying to invade their society to destroy the Towers there, happens to be a member of an extinct species of beastfolk convinced you to let her follow you in exchange for finding me so that you can tell me that you're behind the deaths of the Thalmor?"

Fultheim nodded, then paused, eyes wide in surprise, "Yes- No! What?"

"General Tulius approached me, asking me to look into the disappearance of Elenwen's forces before she decided to invade all of Skyrim. You just told me you killed Ancano when he tried to kill everyone. I'm not saying I'm gonna turn you all in, but that does paint a fairly damning picture."

Merandil stepped in, "I knew nothing of the disappearances. I'd left the Dominion long before then and-"

Raksha interrupted him, "Yeah, and that still bothers me. How did you just decide to leave the Dominion on your own? Everyone in that damnable faction seems completely and wholly devoted to their mistress like dogs following whoever has the meat. Forgive me if I don't trust you right away. Fultheim I know at least, I helped him out of a situation that would've otherwise ended with a knife across his throat." She then turned to Zaara, "And you said you trust him, even though the Thalmor are invading that... What was it you called your homeland?"

Zaara shrugged, "Greenspire. After the Tower that sits at the center of the land, Green-Roots-Spiral."

Khayla tapped Raksha on the back, getting her attention, "I had heard of a Mage who had defected from the Thalmor recently. He fits the description. Besides, he's far from the only High Elf to defect. Runil in Falkreath was a former Thalmor Battlemage, you said so yourself."

Raksha paused, "...Alright. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt." She met Fultheim's gaze, "So, you knew nothing about Ondolemar and the other Thalmor agents that have been disappearing lately?"

Fultheim shook his head, "First I've heard about it. However, that may be related to the other reason why we came looking for you." He took a seat in one of the chairs, "See, when we were about to kill Ancano, he just... vanished. Not like he disintegrated like that other Thalmor, but like he was Expelled the same way you can expel a Daedra. After the Psijics took the Eye of Magnus away, the Mages let us stay there for a little while, Merandil got promoted to Arch-mage, and we suddenly found a dessicated body appearing like a Conjured Daedra in the Hall of the Elements. They found some kind of crystal that caused such radical decay, but they don't know where it's from. Our only lead is that the runes on the crystal were Thrassian, whatever that means."

Merandil spoke up, "The Isles of Thras was home to the kingdom of the Sloads. They were a horrid species of slugmen, and masters of Necromancy. One Sload was said to be able to take an entire army of the dead and raise it with the blink of its eye, and they created the Thrassian Plague as a way to harvest thousands of Souls and create legions of undead soldiers. Thras was believed to be the location of the Coral Tower, and the Whirlpool of Bal, which many say is the reconstruction of the Coral Tower. If the crystal came from there, it stands to reason that the Sloads are preparing for revenge against the Empire."

Zaara raised her eyebrows at the High Elf, "But why would they wait until _now_ to strike?"

Merandil pondered, "...I've always heard that the Sloads greatly value careful deliberation and well-thought decisions, to the point that many of their tales have the hero take plenty of time, maybe even years, to strike the villain down with one carefully thought out strike. In fact, they have no word for adventure in their language, the closest word translates to 'tragic disaster.'" His eyes widened in realization, "Of course! It makes sense!" At everyone's wide-eyed surprised, he clarified, "The Sloads know that the Empire is fragile right now, but they know that the Aldmeri Dominion has its own hands full with their petty squabbles and witchhunts. It makes perfect sense that if they were going to strike, they'd do so when both their enemies are at their weakest and unprepared! They're using the people that they're abducting to test something, probably something that they're planning to unleash on Tamriel." He looked up at Raksha, "Dragonborn, we need to stop them, whatever it takes!"

* * *

A/N

→ So, Raksha questioning her decision to join the Guild, it's not random, but I don't know if I executed it very well. In short, she does have something of a desire to help other people, like giving money to beggars, making the decision to sell her houses to her Housecarls, freeing unlawful prisoners, and so on. She saw that the Guild was in a bit of a problem and decided to help the Guild out of their rut. I would tell you that she joined the Guild as a thrill seeker looking for some new adventure, she would tell you that the Guild would teach her the skills she'd need outside of it, and Brynjolf would tell you that she was entranced by the lure of gold and/or his good looks and charming personality. She is enjoying her new role as a Guildmaster, but still sometimes has that voice that questions her about whether she did the right thing, joining a group of thieves and doing some morally questionable (well, more so than she was willing to go) actions just to bring the Guild back. Khayla doesn't mind her being in the Guild, mostly because she refuses to steal from the Caravans, and because Ri'saad had agreed to serve as a fence for the Guild.

→ Minor headcanon about the Clairvoyance spell: In "TotDB," the Clairvoyance spell uses the Magic pool of the caster to illuminate any sort of Magical flow by injecting extra Magicka directly into it. Anyone who uses Clairvoyance or is exposed to someone who can use it gains a passive ability to see certain traces of consciousness within any sort of Magicka flow whether the spell is active or not. Not like the Detect Life or Detect Dead ability insomuch as the ability to see echoes of the past, to see the ambient traces of a Mage's presence. A similar effect occurs near sources of great magical power like the Eye of Magnus, though these tend to coalesce into simple entities with only the most basic instincts and mental capacity for free will.

→ Small bit of obscure lore mentioned here. Zaara's Scimitar is made from an alloy of Meteoric Iron and Corundum, called Meteoric Steel. If no-one knows what Meteoric Iron is, I urge you to look up the in-game book "Magic from the Sky," which talks a bit about Meteoric Iron and Meteoric Glass. Beyond what's in the book, some of the properties shown are part of my headcanon. Meteoric Iron isn't actually _Iron_ insomuch as it is a form of solidified Magicka in a metallic form, but because it looks a bit like Iron, and only takes an Ironsmith at minimum to forge it, that's just what they call it, much like how Glass weapons and armor aren't made from actual Glass. Gear forged from Meteoric Metals and Alloys offers a 15% boost to all Enchantments. Not as powerful as Stalhrim's 25% boost to Frost Enchantments, but the boost covers a wider range. For a Master Enchanter (All perks acquired), Meteoric Gear (and _only_ Meteoric Gear) can be triple-enchanted due to its very nature (would require a Varla Stone to work) and the only enchantments that work for triple-enchanting are Health/Stamina/Magicka related enchantments, but anyone other than a Master can still only place one enchantment on that gear. However, Meteoric Gear can be "Full Set" enchanted, which means linking one enchantment to multiple pieces to increase its strength for a full set (Requires 1 Varla Stone for each piece the enchanter is planning to link together to work). They can also be "Gauge" enchanted, where certain enchantments will become more powerful when a certain threshold is met (Requires a Dark Welkynd Stone to work). Zaara's Meteoric Steel Scimitar is triple-enchanted with Absorb Health (10 points), Absorb Stamina (10 points),  & Absorb Magicka (10 Points), but she isn't a Master Enchanter. She only forged the Scimitar, then gave it to a Master Enchanter with the specified list of Enchantments and a hefty fee (2500 Gold) to go with it.

→ Bonus! We get to hear a little bit about just how in Oblivion Zaara managed to end up where she did. Also, my favorite member of the Dawnguard gets a brief cameo. This brings up something that I wanted to expand upon. The idea I had for Lilmothiit culture was that it was widely despised to raise the dead or consort with Necromancy, and as such the Lilmothiit are quite aware of what the Undead are like and easily recognize the defining traits of anything Undead, along with those who use such magic, meaning that even a Lilmothiit child knows a Vampire when she sees one. Part of this is because by and large, they still worship Meridia as Merid-Nunda, who they view as the first Champion of Stendarr and Magnus, and as one of the Magna-Ge, who constructed her outposts, the Colored Rooms, in Oblivion to maintain vigilance over the Daedric Princes who would defile the dead, such as Namira, Molag Bal, or the Ideal Masters. Lilmothiit dead were buried within forests where Spriggans roamed, as the Lilmothiit believed that the Spriggans would guard the bodies from Necromancy while the spirits returned to Lorkhan's presence, which the Lilmothiit believe they and the Khajiit were created by, as opposed to the Khajiiti belief that they were born from Azurah's meddling with the Bosmer. They do not believe that the Argonians were Lorkhan's doing, but were made by Sithis to spite Lorkhan and Auriel alike, and the fact that many still believe the Argonians were behind the Knahaten Flu doesn't really help to change that perception.


	16. Thras Questline Pt 1

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. Original Content © Me.

* * *

Quest-line AU: The Coral Kingdom of Thras

"1: A Cruel Frontier"

* * *

"...Did you pack those extra Magicka potions? I'm not really sure what all we'll need." Raksha dug through the chest next to her table. Iona sat nearby, a bit curious at seeing so many people in Honeyside, but otherwise distracted by the bread she was eating at the moment. She glanced up at Khayla, "Hey, did you hear when Merandil and Fultheim were gonna return my leathers and swords?"

Khayla nodded, "Merandil told Fultheim that he wanted to get them tempered for you. Improve the fit and all that." She heard a series of footsteps and glanced to see Fultheim walking up the stairs, carrying a folded stack of gear.

He set them on the bed, "Here. We just got finished with tempering them." Raksha picked up the cuirass and admired it as Fultheim continued, "They may not look different, but you should notice that it fits a lot more comfortably now, and that it just feels stronger." Raksha glanced at him without saying a word, curious, to which Fultheim chuckled and replied, "Well, let's just say that Merandil has a way with potions and enchantments that can make my ability to work with even uncommon gear like this Legendary."

As Raksha slipped into her improved Guildmaster armor, she asked Fultheim about it, "So, Merandil. Did he help you temper your own armor as well?"

Fultheim glanced at his polished Nord Hero Armor, "No, I made these myself, actually. Eorlund Gray-Mane was willing to let me use the Skyforge, being that they were the only flames able to create armor like this. I even made a helmet that, admittedly, I don't wear very often." He reached into his pack and pulled out a helmet that reminded Raksha of what she had seen on a Draugr Deathlord, only instead of blackened and worn, it was shiny, new, and even embroidered with some of the same designs that the more modern Steel Plate armor had. Upon closer inspection, Raksha realized that most of the metal plating on Fultheim's armor had the same embroideries.

She resisted the temptation to take the shiny helmet and instead said, "It's beautiful." Fultheim nodded and for show, slipped the helmet on his head. He drew his Nordic Warhammer and made a mock-snarl and fake growl. Khayla chuckled at his Draugr-impression and Raksha shook her head, grinning, "You're silly, you know that?"

"Aye. Sometimes it takes a close call with death to make one enjoy life more." Fultheim took off his helmet and slipped it back into his pack. He looked around and asked, "Anyone seen the Lilmothiit? Merandil asked me to check on her while I was taking your leathers to you."

Raksha gestured to the back door, "She's sitting outside the porch."

* * *

Zaara was staring out at the mountains and the lake outside the city at the moment, taking in the quiet, peaceful sounds of the wild and the cloudy sky. She heard the door open behind her and looked back to see Fultheim. He leaned against the fence and stared ahead for a moment, before commenting, "It's quite a sight, isn't it?"

Zaara nodded, "...I regret that much of my time here has been exposed to the darker aspects of this land. Sometimes I forget about the more beautiful parts of this land, and that there are kind people here." She stared off in the distance, "Snow-Throat looks beautiful in the morning light."

Fultheim glanced at her with a hint of confusion, "'Snow-Throat'? Is that what your people call the Throat of the World?"

She shook her head, "Snow-Throat is one of the many Towers, much like the White-Gold Tower, the Red Tower, or Crystal-Like-Law. It just known commonly as the Throat of the World, like how the Red Tower is also known as the Red Mountain."

Fultheim thought about it, "You know, I think I remember Merandil mentioned a Coral Tower located in Thras. Think we'll get to see it?"

Zaara shook her head, "Unless the Maelstrom of Bal is the reconstruction of the Coral Tower, I don't think so."

He took note of her tone, "You don't seem very excited to be going. We're going to go somewhere new!"

She nodded, "You're right, I'm worried. My people need help to fight off a Thalmor incursion, and I can't go back to help them until we deal with the Sloads. But traveling to an island filled with Necromancers who regularly slay their own children for rituals and have no qualms defiling the living and the dead alike doesn't exactly fill me with joy either."

Fultheim chose his words carefully, "I wouldn't practice it for any reason, but what do you have against Necromancy?"

Zaara answered immediately, "A Necromancer would tell you that once dead, resurrecting a body is no different from summoning a Flame Atronach or a Frost Atronach. It is just a golem of flesh that you command. But commanding the dead is still enslavement, because the dead can't give you permission to command them, it removes their free will even in death. You force the energy of a departed soul back into its body so that you have a spare set of hands. They don't have their whole soul, but the soul gains a link to the body that causes the soul to feel pain that the body feels when the afterlife should be a paradise for them, a place where the departed can finally relax and rejoice that they made it to the real afterlife instead of damning themselves to the Dreamsleeve. They can't rejoice when a Necromancer raises their body and causes them pain unending until their body is killed. This is what Merid-Nunda taught the Lilmothiit, and we continue to follow her teachings just as much as the other Aedra and Magna-Ge."

He was left in deep thought, mulling over everything that she had told him, before he finally spoke again, "...I had originally come out to check on you. How are you feeling?"

Zaara's hand brushed against her side. She knew the wound was long gone, but sometimes, she could still feel a phantom pain from where that Staff's magic had blasted right through her. She figured that it would go away in a couple days. She glanced toward Fultheim and replied, "I'm recovering. It may be a couple days still."

She didn't want to mention that she was terrified of the fact that she had almost died while in the tomb, that the one who would've killed her was a Lich. The thought of dying at the hands of a Necromancer wielding a Divine Artifact wasn't a comforting one, never mind the fact that she had lived through the actual scenario, minus the dying part. She didn't want to tell them, but she'd had a nightmare since then, about that damned Dragon Priest. Only, in her dream, she was alone against it and it would slay her immediately. She didn't have the aforementioned nightmare last night, but it had shaken her up either way.

Fultheim glanced toward the door, "...If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. I'm sure one of us could provide any assistance that you need."

Zaara bit her lip and nodded, "I appreciate the thought, but I'll be fine." As Fultheim returned inside, she let her mind wander, and came back to the night before. She remembered her mission. She was to find the Dragonborn, a legendary warrior who the Thalmor feared and despised above all others, and bring them to Greenspire to help fight against the Thalmor armada that was assembling outside the city. She had honestly expected some grand hero who was looked up to by others as a beacon of hope and a brave warrior who would charge headfirst into a battle, no matter the odds, and come out on top, and yet always had the time to be kind and generous to the needy and the common folk.

To see that the Dragonborn was a thief- no, the _leader_ of a band of thieves, with an apparent distrust of almost everyone except a select few really shook her up in a different way from the nightmare. In essence, it shattered the heroic and valiant knight that she had imagined the Dragonborn to be and she almost wasn't sure she wanted to bring _this_ home with her. She sighed, idly wondering if the Khajiit in there was truly Dragonborn or not, wondering if this was some ironic punishment from the Gods.

She stopped wondering when she heard the door open, and a hand covered in black fur and black leather armor placed a gold sapphire ring on the table next to her. She looked up to see the same Khajiit, Raksha, who told her, "Merandil told me to tell you that he enchanted it to make casting Restoration and Destruction magic easier. He said that it should feel like almost no effort at all, figured that a Master Healer like you could use something like this." Zaara picked up the ring and held it in her hand, taking note of the faint blue glow on the ring. She slipped it on her index finger and as a test, summoned a ward and cast it. It really didn't feel like any effort, like her Magicka pool wasn't even remotely winded from it.

Raksha decided to sit down next to Zaara and started off by saying, "I'm sorry if I was a little rude last night. I'm just not used to an Ex-Thalmor and a mythical being begging for my assistance." She met Zaara's gaze and reassured her, "Once we're done on Thras, I'd love to go and see Greenspire."

The Lilmothiit was at a loss for words. She wouldn't expect a thief to care about her plight, much less _give_ her something. It just confused her, so she blurted out, "Why did you do it?"

It was Raksha's turn to look confused, "What do you mean?"

Zaara suddenly wasn't sure she could answer that question. She took a deep breath to try and calm herself down, so that she could be clear when she clarified her question, "Why did you become a thief? Do you care only for your own wellbeing and nothing about others? Are you just playing us like it's all a game to you? Why?"

Raksha's eyes widened slightly and she looked to be deep in thought, before she shook her head and answered, "It's... complicated, if you wanna hear it." She waited for Zaara's answer, and when she didn't, Raksha continued, "I joined initially because the Thieves Guild taught me skills that I used outside of the Guild. But as things went on and I brought the Guild's reputation up in Skyrim, I realized that being with the Guild gave me a rare opportunity. It gave me a chance to take the wealth of those who didn't deserve it and instead give it to someone who needed it. Nearly every homeless person in the major holds looks up to me because I take the time to try and help them, whether through gold or a personal request, I was who they looked up to, because no-one else would actually help them. I... It warms my heart when I give them a share of the gold I 'liberated' from some of the more vile parts of Skyrim and hearing them thank me for it. Snilf told me that he was planning to start helping out in the Riften Stables, Brenuin told me that he had just been hired at the Meadery, and Noster was inspired to start working at Radiant Raiment. I hear that he's doing well there."

Raksha paused, then summed it all up, "I suppose you could say that I became a thief to help those that no-one else would and to get revenge on the penny-pinchers that put them in that position." She leaned forward and in a low voice, added, "Just don't tell Maven Black-Briar that _I'm_ the reason she had to sell her horse."

Zaara wasn't sure what to think. Perhaps this Khajiit did care for others, even if she had a strange way of doing so. She still had that creeping doubt at the edge of her mind, demanding that she prove that the Khajiit proved herself Dragonborn. She tried to think of a way to say so and settled for, "Can you... can you really Shout?"

Raksha thought about it for a moment, the stared up at the sky and replied, "Sure." She stood up, turned toward the lake and inhaled. She looked up at the sky and Shouted, " _Lok Vah Koor!_ " A brilliant aura of magic expanded all around them for a moment, and soon after, Zaara noticed the clouds clearing up, and Magnus shining in its afternoon light. The words felt like they had burned into Zaara's mind and she wasn't sure why. It was like she knew them, but she didn't _know_ them, empty words with no meaning.

She shook her head, impressed, "Well, I suppose that proves it, then."

She glanced at Raksha, who seemed a bit cheerful. Raksha muttered quietly, "It's been a while since I've Shouted. People haven't needed a Dragonborn for so long that I haven't really felt the need to use the Voice."

"Why is that?"

Raksha stared up at the Throat of the World, a small grin tugging the corner of her lips, "You may find it difficult to believe, but I'm friends with a Dragon. He's old and grey, but he isn't scary. He lives on top of a mountain where he meditates and teaches the Way of the Voice to his students. There are some who chose to continue their dominant and destructive ways, but they are few and far between." She turned to Zaara, "Jarl Balgruuf once said he found High Hrothgar to be a very peaceful, disconnected place. Some time after the initial defeat of Alduin, I found myself spending more time up there, meditating and learning the Words of Power."

* * *

It was a while before Raksha and Zaara came inside, and when they did, Merandil was waiting, "Miss Raksha, I have a gift for you and your spouse." He held out two enchanted rings, both gold emerald rings with a faint glow emitting from them, "Rings enchanted with Illusion and Alteration magic. Much like Zaara's Ring of the Battle Healer, they should make it feel like there's no effort to casting those spells."

Raksha slipped the ring on and right away, she could feel something change in her Magicka pool, as if a weight was suddenly lifted off her shoulders. She heard a sound next to her and looked to see Khayla having cloaked herself in an Ebonyflesh Spell, the light blue magic swirling through her fur mixed with the black sheen of the spell's effects. Raksha was tempted to try her own spell, but settled for talking to Merandil, "Any leads on this 'Dessication crystal' and where we can find a ride to Thras?"

Merandil shook his head, "I was going to check at the Windhelm Docks, but Zaara insisted on heading to Riften."

Raksha raised an eyebrow, "Why?"

Merandil seemed tense, "It's... Well, it's a bit complicated. I'll explain it later." The look on his face made it clear that he wasn't going to tell her right then, and she would just have to wait until later. Raksha decided not to push it.

She turned to Khayla and nodded. The latter ran through a quick list to ensure that they had everything that they might need. Afterwards, Raksha consulted Merandil on the locations they could go. "I wanna try checking in at Dawnstar. I have a... well, a contact there that may be willing to help us." At the Altmer's inquiry, she only said, "I paid him a large sum so that I could get something he had. I don't know if that puts us on good terms, but I think he might be more willing than some to take us to Thras."

* * *

As the group made their way outside of Riften, they got some strange looks from some of the people they passed. When Raksha thought about it, they were something of a strange group. One doesn't really see two Khajiits traveling with a High Elf, a Nord, and a mysterious cloaked figure. Zaara was concealed under her robes with her head down. For the most part, she probably looked like a Khajiit under all the robes. People seemed to actively move away from her and Raksha could tell that their reactions made her uncomfortable. The guards glared at the group, as if they thought the group was planning something. The carriage driver was way more patient, "You looking to hire a carriage?"

"Yes, we need to get to Dawnstar."

A couple minutes later, the group was on the carriage and on their way to the Pale. As they rode in silence, Raksha decided to strike up some conversation with the others, "So. I never asked, but why is your name 'Fultheim the Fearless?'"

Fultheim looked up and frowned, "Well, that's an interesting tale. I actually used to be called Arnbjorn Shore-Engraver. My family used to live in Winterhold, prior to the Great Collapse. I was born in Shor's Stone, though. My da had decided that sailing wasn't what he wanted to do and decided that my family was better suited to be a bunch of miners instead. I didn't like the idea, always had an adventurous spirit. Da didn't like that a whole lot and kept trying to talk me out of it. I guess I became a mercenary just to spite him at first, until I began to realize that I really did like the adventuring that I got to do and decided to change my name to something more fitting. I heard of the name of Fultheim and the tales attached to that name, about a warrior from the time of the Great War who had single-handedly held off an entire legion of Aldmeri Battlemages and come out on top, leaving only a single Elf alive with a warning. I was inspired by the name, took it as my own and added 'the Fearless' to it. I guess it was popular enough that the Dark Brotherhood decided to try and kill me over it though."

Merandil seemed deep in thought, but at the mention of the Dark Brotherhood, his eyes widened. He turned to Fultheim and said, "You weren't who they were hunting."

Fultheim looked at Merandil in surprise as the Elf explained, "Fultheim was a member of the Blades. He had slain a great many Elves during the Great War, then promptly disappeared. I didn't think much of it at the time, because I didn't join the Thalmor until after the Great War, but Elenwen herself had performed the Black Sacrament and named Fultheim as the Dark Brotherhood's target. Even paid them in advance just to convince them to work for her. They must've gotten you confused for the other Fultheim."

Fultheim shrugged, "They're all dead now, the Dragonborn saw to that. My only regret is that I wasn't there to crack open at least one Dark Brotherhood skull." He leaned back against the side of the carriage and stared up at the sky, before letting a grin spread across his face. When Merandil asked what he was smiling about, he shrugged again, "Just happy to be alive. I don't think I'll ever stop being happy about that."

Merandil couldn't resist a small smile of his own, "That's good, Fultheim. And you shouldn't let anything stop you."

Raksha had her mind elsewhere at the moment. She was thinking back to the Blades that she knew about, Delphine and Esbern. Since her little outburst at Sky Haven Temple, she hadn't been there since then. It didn't really help that half the reason was because she was half-convinced that if Delphine didn't try to kill her again, that they'd still be on bad terms. Not that they ever really _were_ on good terms anyway, given that Raksha's first meeting with the Blades involved getting back a sacred relic that they had stolen just to try and get her attention. She had seen them maybe once since that whole debacle. When she was at High Hrothgar, meditating again, she came across Esbern speaking with Arngeir. She didn't hear the full conversation, but it sounded vaguely like Esbern was offering to place the Greybeards under the protection of the Blades, including Paarthurnax, as well as giving the Greybeards a more formal apology for attempting to kill their leader. From what she did hear, Arngeir had accepted their apology, but politely declined their offer of protection, saying that High Hrothgar was a place of peace, and even having guards would violate the sanctity of the monastary.

* * *

It was dark by the time they reached Dawnstar, and as they got off the carriage, the driver called out, "Be careful, there's been talk of Vampires attacking in the night."

Raksha waved at the carriage driver and the group set about searching for Captain Wayfinder. He was stepping off the _Sea Squall_ to speak with the guards about something when he noticed the group walking toward him. He recognized the two Khajiits right away and walked over to meet with them. "I recognize you two. Heard you finally tied the knot, so congratulations."

Raksha nodded, "Thank you, but that's not why we're here. We were hoping to hire your ship."

Wayfinder was a bit surprised, "Really? Where to? I mean, I suppose I could. The other two might not like it as much. Tell you what, come morning, I'll speak to them about taking a break and-"

Raksha lowered her voice and leaned closer to him, "There is a threat to all of Tamriel right now from incredibly powerful master Necromancers, and if we can't get there and stop them, then everyone -not just everyone you know or care about- but _everyone_ will die and be resurrected as mindless, undead thralls. We need that boat ride tonight."

Wayfinder was convinced, and disturbed, "...Alright. I'll get them up and we'll get the _Sea Squall_ ready to go."

* * *

While the same couldn't be said for Guthrum, Ravam wasn't exactly happy to be dragged out of bed close to midnight at the behest of _Captain_ Wayfinder, as Guthrum was keen to remind him. The Dunmer didn't exactly like that the reason was because a strange bunch of characters had hired him just so that they could go to some random island out in the middle of nowhere.

The guards seemed a bit suspicious as well about the _Sea Squall_ setting sail so late at night, but that soon fell behind as the ship set sail, with Guthrum studying a map where he had drawn out a small line leading from Dawnstar around to a small dot in High Rock, and another in the Eltheric Sea, near a small cluster of islands. He was discussing the route with Captain Wayfinder and Raksha, "...Ideally, we'll stop here, at this port in Moonguard. The trip should take a couple days with favorable winds. Once we resupply there, it should be anywhere from another two to three days before we see land. Again, this is accounting for favorable winds. I still can't quite understand why you want to sail out so far, never mind going to this island of all places."

Raksha glanced at the Captain, then turned to Guthrum and answered, "I have my suspicions that someone is planning something great and terrible, and that they're hidden here. Merandil could explain it in detail." She pointed toward a small cluster of islands in between High Rock and Thras, "What's this?"

Guthrum followed her finger to the islands in question, "I'm not entirely sure. I think they might be part of Stros M'Kai, though. Do you wanna go around them, or do you wanna just sail in between them?"

Wayfinder took a moment to think, "We'll need to get there as soon as possible. I think we'll be able to go through there unmolested."

* * *

Khayla was standing on the deck, watching as the scenery went by. She could see the Blue Palace in the distance and recalled some time ago when she, Raksha, Kharjo, and Commander Maro fought the Dark Brotherhood there. She wasn't sure why, but she had this creeping temptation to stick around on deck as long as she could, feeling that once they got there, they might not see the sun for a while. She was hesitant to go along, having fought a necromancer before, and decided that once was enough for a lifetime. However, she didn't want to leave Raksha alone against beings that powerful. She felt better that they had extra help, but in the end, it was just the five of them against an entire island of Master Necromancers along with whatever else they'd managed to conjure up. It seemed grim to think about, but she was thankfully drawn away from her thoughts by someone else's presence near her.

She turned to see Merandil appear on deck, stretching and having changed out of his wizard robes and into what looked like some basic clothes. The outfit made him almost look like a sailor, she decided. He met her gaze and looked around, then approached her with a question, "Hey, do you have any spare boots I can borrow? I'm tinkering with what I hope will be a new enchantment that should make navigating the actual island easier."

"Oh? What did you have in mind?"

Merandil felt a small blush cross his face and Khayla immediately got the impression that he hadn't spoken with many women in his lifetime other than Thalmor Justiciars. "Well," he began, "I'm trying to develop a new enchantment based around what I know of Waterbreathing and Waterwalking. My hope is to develop an enchantment that will let us move through water as if we were on land, meaning it should be easier to swing swords and sling Frost Magic around."

Khayla handed him her old Steel Boots, seeing as she didn't use them that much anymore with her Ebony Armor having replaced it for a while now, "Frost Magic? I thought you were a Pyromancer."

"I am. But fire and water don't go well together, and let's just say that Shock Magic is well out of the question. That means I'll have to go with what I know, and for me, that's Frost." He paused, "This may seem out of the blue, but if I can get this enchantment to work, do you know any good names for it? I keep wanting to choose something like Depth Striding or Wavebreaking or something like that."

Khayla mulled the names over in her head, "I think you're onto something. If you can figure out that enchantment, let us know. I'm sure a great many of us would appreciate an enchantment like that."

Merandil grinned, "And when I do, I'll make sure to offer free Waterbreathing Enchanted apparel with it."

* * *

A/N

→ I've been tinkering with this idea for a while now. The basic idea behind this quest-line being that it starts as a random event, much like Dawnguard and Dragonborn. Only, there's no-one approaching the Dragonborn to start the quest-line either by attempted assassination or by recruitment. The quest-line starts with a random, dessicated corpse along with a magic crystal that caused the dessication in the first place, which is engraved with runes that are Thrassian in origin. This leads into the need to find your way to Thras to investigate the crystal's origins and uncovering a Sloadic plot that has them poised to topple both the Thalmor and the Empire, paving the way for a new Necromantic Empire that would make Potema's reign look like that of an angry toddler with a bunch of dolls by comparison (Er, well that's how the Sloads like to imagine it, anyway).

→ I've expanded a bit more on Lilmothiiti culture a bit. They believe that the Dreamsleeve, a sort of plane of Aetherius where some souls go, is just as horrible of an afterlife as Coldharbour, the Soul Cairn, or the Deadlands. They believe that the Dreamsleeve, which is said to basically reincarnate souls, is a horrid realm of Oblivion hidden in Aetherius where the dead suffer the fate of essentially losing their personality, everything that makes them who they are, just so that the soul energy can be sent back to Nirn. They believe that this was created by Malacath to get revenge on the Aedra for letting his Aedric self, Trinimac, be killed and devoured by Boethiah, who they believe then birthed him as a Daedra.


	17. Thras Questline Pt 2

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. Original Content © Me.

* * *

Quest-line AU: The Coral Kingdom of Thras

"2: The Folly of Necromancers"

* * *

It had to have been at least a couple days now, since they had left the land of Skyrim behind. Zaara found herself staring out at the ocean, leaning against the side of the ship. Last night, she had confided in Khayla her reluctance to go to Thras, to which she was pleasantly surprised to know that she wasn't alone, nearly everyone on the ship was reluctant to go. That said, the Dark Elf she'd talked to had a few choice words to say about the captain, but was otherwise excited to see something other than the same dreary snow, an opinion he almost shared with Fultheim.

At this point, she felt something a bit strange. It was like a sort of magical resonance. She recognized that it was some form of a Conjuration spell. Those were normally forbidden by nearly all tribes of her species, with the sole exception being that of a Familiar, as those weren't bound to any Daedric Prince or realm insomuch as they were wandering wolf spirits. This felt like a much stronger, but more well hidden magical field, like an aura more than a spell or a rune. She closed her eyes and began to concentrate, trying to get a better feel for the magic at hand. She could sense the aura, feeling as though it was beckoning her, the magic extending ethereal tendrils toward her, reaching out to grab at her.

She gasped and opened her eyes, realizing all of the sudden what the aura was. "A Soul Snare..." She thought aloud. She'd heard about spells like these, powerful incantations that only a grand master of Necromancy could actually even attempt to cast. This Soul Snare wasn't over them, it was far off. However, it must be quite powerful for her to sense it this far out. As far as she knew, they hadn't really even reached Moonguard yet. She tried to consider the possibilities. It could be that it was simply a trap laid elsewhere, waiting for the unwary adventure to die in. With how powerful it was, it made her even more wary of the possibility that a fate worse than death awaited them if they failed.

She was distracted from her morbid thoughts momentarily by someone leaning against the railing next to her. She was greeted by Merandil's solemn stare, "You feel it too, don't you?" She nodded. Merandil sighed, "I suppose I should have seen this coming. Even as scattered pockets of civilization, the Sloads are still a force to be reckoned with."

"And you've fought them before?" Zaara didn't sound convinced and she knew that Merandil could tell.

"The First Aldmeri Dominion rose in no small part to oppose the Coral Kingdom of Thras. At the time, there was no such thing as the Thalmor, just an alliance between the Altmer, Bosmer, and Khajiit. They were the Protectors of Tamriel, and for a long time, they were the only ones who fought the Sloads. It wasn't until the rise of the Septim Dynasty and the First Empire that we actually pushed back the Sloads into their homeland of Thras. I wasn't around back then, I doubt my parents were. However, there have occasionally been incursions that the Thalmor had to deal with, and I was unfortunate enough to be present for a couple of them. Both times, the Sload leading the charge managed to kill nearly every single Warrior, Mage, and Spellsword that I was with. The first time, I only survived because I got a lucky shot with a Firebolt, the second was because reinforcements arrived right before I could be killed." Merandil stared down at the water, "Sometimes, I wonder if Herself suspected my disloyalty before even I did."

They stood in silence for a little while as Zaara mulled over what he had said. She trusted him, no doubt about it. After having proven himself helpful multiple times, including helping save her life, she had no doubt that he was honest. But, there was still much about his old life that she knew little about; Fultheim certainly knew much more than she did about him. It was at the point where she was half-tempted to consider the possibility that they were more than just friends. Before she could think any further into that, Merandil perked up and told her, "I did finally succeed in working on a new enchantment that I think might help us on Thras." She turned to him as he explained, "I call it Depthwalking. When we're underwater, the enchantment should allow us to sink to the bottom and move through the water unhindered." He held up a necklace to show her, "Dual-enchanted with Waterbreathing, and we'll be able to fight the Sloads in their home turf, where they'd normally be at an advantage."

Zaara took the necklace and admired it. It was a gold necklace with three jewels affixed to it. She could feel magic emanating from it and decided to try it on, especially since Merandil's grin seemed to prompt her to do so. As she did, she spoke, "Normally, when one of my kind needs to go down into the water, we grab heavy rocks and just hold onto them as they sink down. Generally, it's so that a hunter could grab more fish from from deeper down."

Merandil frowned, "But, this could be marginally more useful! Think about it, that hunter could catch all the fish he wants and be able to better defend himself against Slaughterfish and other sea creatures."

Zaara conceded that point, "My tribe generally teaches all the essentials for survival to the cubs, then encourage them to find their own talents in the world. If it weren't for the danger presented by that Soul Snare, I might be willing to try out your new enchantment for myself, and get us a fresh meal instead of those salted slabs of old meat."

Merandil glanced out toward the sea, "Don't suppose you know of a way to remove such a powerful spell?"

She thought about it, "Perhaps if there was some way of boosting either Stendarr's Aura or a Circle of Protection to encompass the entire ship, we'd at least be protected from the Soul Snare. However, I don't know how we could do that. I don't have any Welkynd Stones, potions, or enchanted apparel to boost my power, nor do we have the necessary components for a ritual that complex."

Her mention of the components and a ritual was what stopped Merandil from offering his help. He stared off into the distance, wondering if he could get a feel for the exact location of the Soul Snare. With as powerful as it was, he had some concerns that if they got too close, it would rip their souls right out, without needing to inflict a single wound. He glanced toward Zaara, who had left and walked toward the middle of the deck. She sat down, cross-legged, and closed her eyes, her face angled toward Magnus, who's light broke through the clouds.

He heard someone come up from below deck and saw Raksha, looking disturbed. "You two are both magically attuned, aren't you?" Merandil nodded, hoping that he was making it obvious that they already knew about the Soul Snare. Raksha glanced outward. She was silent for a moment before turning back to Merandil, "I've cleared a Soul Snare before. Alduin's own, when he was laying siege on Sovngarde. Clear Skies, that was the Shout that I used, but I had three Heroes of Sovngarde Shouting it with me."

Merandil raised an eyebrow, "Do you suppose that...?"

Raksha rubbed her chin, "Maybe, but I don't know if my Voice is strong enough alone to accomplish this."

The High Elf gestured toward the sea, "The only way we'll know is to try."

She took a deep breath, while Zaara moved to the side. She closed her eyes and waited for a moment, mentally preparing herself. She proceeded to Shout, " _Lok Vah Koor_!" The wave of energy, transformed by the ancient magic, blew outward in all directions. Zaara tried to feel for the Soul Snare. It was still there, but weakened. However, she could feel something else among them. Through ancient words burned in her mind, she could feel something that, to a part of her mind she didn't know she had, was familiar and comforting. Without willing it, she sought out that warmth and power.

When she heard Merandil yell out, she suddenly realized that there was blue and yellow light flying out like fire from Raksha, and straight into her own body. The Khajiit seemed just as shocked as she was. However, there was a feeling of familiarity, a sudden sense of understanding, at least to Raksha.

"...The Greybeards were right. I'm _not_ the only Dragonborn!" She seemed excited by the revelation. Zaara just stood, dumbfounded by the knowledge now flooding into her mind. The empty words that floated around in her head now had meaning, and not just that, but they held power, and she understood that spoken, these words could affect the world physically.

Without realizing it, in attempting to understand the words, she began to utter a single word, " _Ul_." There was a sudden, faint sensation, as if Time itself had felt her speak, but didn't respond.

She was finally shaken from her trance by Raksha, "Hey! Are you still with us?" The Lilmothiit nodded, finally recovering from the effect that this newfound knowledge had on her. Raksha gave her an inquisitive look, "What was that word you spoke?"

Zaara tried to remember the word and found that it was no problem to remember whatsoever. She tried to visualize it and understand it better. She recalled the feeling she got from the word, that sense of 'straining' Time. It made her feel cautious about using it, but curiosity overcame caution and she uttered the word again, " _Ul_." Instead of feeling that strain of Time once again, what came out of her mouth was like a distortion of air, followed by a sound not unlike the cracking of wood as the word appeared in Dovahzul on the deck, glowing like embers against the dark wood.

* * *

Wayfinder immediately appeared on deck at the sound of yelling and magic, sword drawn, and yelled out, "Are we under attack?!" He noticed the glow and for a moment, panicked under the thought that the ship was on fire, until he realized that the 'fire' wasn't spreading, or even really acting like a flame. He saw the Khajiit and the Lilmothiit staring down at the strange glow and asked, "What's going on?"

Raksha looked up and turned to him, "Oh, I'm just discovering that I'm not the only Dragonborn, and completing a Shout."

Captain Wayfinder was initially confused by what she meant, until she looked up and Shouted, " _Tiid Klo Ul_!" Immediately, she seemed to blur in his vision, while everything else seemed to slow down to almost a crawl. It felt like a few long minutes had passed before the effect stopped, and Time seemed to return to normal, with Raksha no longer appearing blurry and spastic.

"What was that?"

Raksha turned to the Captain, "Slow Time. It is a Thu'um that I've known for a while, but I've never used it because I've never had all three words before now." She turned to face Zaara and addressed her, "If you knew one of the words, I can teach you the other two. Having two Dragonborns fighting the Sloads would be greater than just one."

"Not just two."

Everyone turned toward the familiar voice and found Fultheim, having just arrived on deck, "She's not the only one who learned the words. Merandil and I both know that Word of Power, and we both know some of our own words. I've spoken with Farkas during my time as a Companion, and he never saw the glowing carving at Dustman's Cairn, but he said that I was in a trance, the same trance that the Word Wall in Labyrinthian put all three of us in. The only thing it could mean is that we all have the Dragon Blood."

Merandil seemed ashamed, knowing full-well what trance he was referring to. He thought that all Word Walls did that to everyone. He was somewhat scared of the idea that he might actually be Dragonborn, just like the others. Then again, he hadn't thought that there would be more than one Dragonborn, having always assumed that Raksha was the Last Dragonborn.

All of this was suddenly pushed aside as the _Strident Squall_ rocked to the side violently. Everyone tried to grab onto something as a massive portal seemed to open up around the ship, then snap shut, taking them with it.

* * *

She was really starting to get sick of being abducted. That was the first thought in Raksha's head as she opened her eyes and looked around. They were on a shore she didn't recognize. The _Strident Squall_ was beached, but relatively undamaged. She got onto her feet and began looking around. There were a couple strange huts or shacks dotting the island, but it was small. Despite not being there, she was fairly certain that even the Summerset Isles were bigger than this island. There was a single, large hill a bit further inland, but that was about the extent of it.

She turned her attention to the ship and began searching for survivors. Thankfully, no-one had been flung too far away from the ship and pretty soon, everyone, including the crew of the ship, was accounted for.

Wayfinder looked around and asked, "Where are we? How did we get here?"

Zaara answered for her, "I believe that was a sort of portal. Not many Conjurers these days are strong enough to do something that powerful."

Guthrum stared ahead, "Then, I would imagine, we're on the island of Thras.

* * *

A/N

→ And so, the wait is finally over, and the Dragon Blood in these characters finally wake up. This was something that I had planned for a while now. Really, as early as Merandil's introduction, the idea of there being multiple Dragonborns. This does _not_ mean that anyone who can Shout is Dragonborn in "Tales," but it's more like, this is my take on the whole "OC-per-Questline" gimmick. This first arose from me reading about the concept of the Dragon Break, which was (Out-of-Universe) the way for the writers at Bethesda to canonize all endings in... I think it was Daggerfall? (Don't quote me on that). I had this idea for different characters to participate in different quest-lines, but what they had in common was that they were all Dragonborns of different races, and that was how they came to know each other. _That_ came from what Arngeir said about how the Player is the only Dragonborn known to them. Even though the Player character is known as the Last Dragonborn, I've always liked the idea that there was at least 1 Dragon Bloodline for every sentient race, and the Septims were the only known bloodline.


	18. Thras Questline Pt 3

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda. Original Content © Me.

* * *

Quest-line AU: The Coral Kingdom of Thras

"3: Liar's Fall"

* * *

Zaara wasn't very excited to see the island, and she had half a mind to tell them that this was a bad idea, that they should just turn around now, before anything happened to them. She was outvoted, with reasons varying from needing directions to the fact that they had been pulled through a sort of modified Recall spell here to the fact that if they didn't do anything, then the Sloads would be able to carry out their plan and kill everyone. She had resigned and set about tending to anyone wounded. Thankfully, the worst anyone suffered was a couple rough scrapes. She couldn't sense any diseases in anyone, though strangely, she could feel the aftermath of a particularly powerful disease in two of them. It wasn't in them, but whatever it was definitely left its marks, like a scar where a sword had cut just deep enough.

Thankfully, nothing else seemed to be particularly bleak about their situation, beyond the obvious. She sighed and looked at the _Strident Squall_. Wayfinder and Guthrum assured them that they'd have the ship ready soon. She asked if they wanted her to stick around in case they needed protection, but Wayfinder politely declined, saying he could handle a few undead crabs if it came down to it. She didn't have the heart to tell him about the massive, undead sea monsters that the Sloads had summoned once that Merandil had told him about.

She decided to put her mind in the present. Right now, the only lead they had on the Sloads were the small shacks. She had a feeling that something was in one of those shacks that could give them a hint of the scale of what they were planning. Perhaps it was her fears speaking to her, but she kept wondering if this was just some wild goose chase. However, the newly awakened Dragon in her mind wouldn't let her chicken out of this, demanding that she see it through to the end. She found herself agreeing with that idea, regardless. She was truly scared of what she'd encounter while here, but at least she wasn't alone this time.

* * *

The others had already started searching the huts for any sign of a lead by the time Zaara had returned. Raksha immediately noticed and waved, gesturing her to listen. "Merandil and Fultheim have that hut covered, and Khayla and I are searching this one. If you wanna help, go check that hut over there." She pointed to a small shack that was a small distance away from the two."

Zaara followed her gesture to the hut in question. Like the others, this shack was just a small, generic shack that, upon opening, led to a small room. Looking around, she noticed that, besides the curious bloodstains on the floor, there was what looked like a suspicious pile of fresh sand. She brushed it aside and uncovered a small hatch. Curious, she opened it, drawing her Meteoric Scimitar and, as soon as her other hand was free, readying a Sun Fire spell that she aimed down the narrow tunnel that she had uncovered. Nothing seemed to be actively waiting for her, so she closed the hatch and headed out of the shack to tell the others. As it turned out, Merandil and Fultheim were heading out of their shack. The looks on their faces suggested to her that they hadn't found anything. She waved at them, "I found something, go get Raksha and Khayla so they can come see it!"

As soon as she said that, the ground around them rumbled violently as the sand shifted, with a massive figure shooting out of the ground. The monster appeared almost as if it was stitched together using the flesh of numerous bodies and some vile magic. The monster had armor forged from bloody bones, as if they'd been ripped out of fresh corpses, with piles of bloody flesh holding the bones together and filling in the gaps. The corpse-monster roared at them, crimson tentacles erupting from its skull. Two cloudy white eyes glared at everything around it as the monster swung its arm at Zaara, the Lilmothiit being the nearest target. She was batted aside by it and flew a few feet before sliding to a stop on the beach. The monster opened its mouth and vomited a torrent of red liquid that missed her, as she rolled out of the way and got back onto her feet. Where the fluid touched, it hissed and popped, something that told Zaara that it wasn't just blood. She looked up at the monster and dashed at it, swinging her sword and slashing at its leg. The monster recoiled for a moment, before swiping at her, with a ribcage on its arm tearing open to spill out more visceral tendrils that struck her. The tendrils only grazed her by the arm, but where the struck, they left an intense, burning pain from the liquid that splashed onto her. It threw off her concentration and she grabbed her arm where it was burning, healing spell ready.

The monster closed in, ready to kill her, when it was blown away by Raksha Shouting, " _Fus Ro Dah_!" The Shout struck it in center mass, throwing off its balance and sending it tumbling. Raksha turned to Zaara and yelled, "Get it while it's down!"

Zaara forced herself to focus. No matter how much of her magic she was putting into healing herself, the injury wasn't going away. She made a split second decision and prepared to dual-cast one of her Sun Fire Spells. This one was one of her own design, based on the ones she had learned. It took a moment to charge, but as soon as it was ready, she fired her Sunburst spell. The spell exploded when it hit the monster in a brilliant flash of holy light, burning away the monster's flesh and bone and causing it to scream in agony as it attempted to get back up, the fire of Magnus burning it and causing it to fall apart as the visceral enchantments binding its flesh together faded. The monster collapsed into a pile of rotting flesh and black stones. Zaara noticed, to her horror, that those stones were all Black Soul Gems.

She felt the burning in her arm again and pulled up her sleeve to look at the scratches where the monster had nicked her. There was an eerie red glow emanating from them, and she could already see her fur falling off near the wound, revealing brown, necrotic flesh around the blood-red wounds. She shuddered at the realization, "Oh gods..." She tried to use her Healing spell on it, only for the pain to flare up and the wound to grow slightly larger. She screamed and stopped, grabbing her arm on instinct. She fell to her knees, tears welling up as she tried to hold in any further screams of agony amid the sharp, unrelenting pain. She focused and took a few deep breaths, then whispered out a small prayer, "Mnemo-Li spare me, let me gain the strength to continue through this, please..."

After a few tense moments, the pain finally seemed to let up a bit, and she found the strength to stand up. She stared down at her arm. The plagued flesh had stopped spreading, which was at least a good sign. However, she was worried about the implications of the symptoms of this plague. Whatever it was, it only seemed to flare up and worsen whenever she used her magic. This wasn't a good sign. It meant that not only could she not heal herself if something were to happen, it meant that her magic would be useless altogether. She glanced at her Scimitar. At the least, she could still use that. It was Enchanted, and she was hoping that whatever this disease was, an enchanted sword wouldn't affect it until she could cure it. Something told her that a regular Cure Potion wouldn't be enough to fix this. She found herself suddenly very scared over the possibility that this plague could end her, and there wasn't anything that she or the others could do.

She tried not to dwell on that very grim thought too much and turned to the others, "I found a ladder that leads underground. I think we should check it out."

Merandil approached her, "What about your wound? Do you want me to-"

"No!" She yelled and covered her injury impulsively. It was painfully obvious that she was scared that his attempt to heal her, while pure, might actually lead to her death instead. She realized how she'd answered him and repeated herself, more calm this time, "No. This can't be fixed with a simple spell, because it isn't a normal plague. We'll need to find the origin of this plague if I want to cure myself."

Merandil let his hands fall by his sides, "Alright. If you are absolutely certain. You can still use a sword, right?" She nodded. With a small amount of relief, Merandil nodded, "Alright. Stay close to one of us, that way we can protect you." Zaara nodded again and with that, the group went off to the secret entrance, and toward whatever horrors awaited them.

* * *

A/N

→ Happy Halloween, everyone. Have a character-centric update with freaky stuff to celebrate. And now, for some clarification in the notes below.

→ "Sunburst" is a spell of Zaara's own design, basically an improvement over the "Vampire's Bane" spell, that she'd been working on after their encounter with Morokei and had just finished writing the Spell Tome for while on the _Strident Squall_. OoC, it's based on the "Super Magelight" unobtainable spell that you can only acquire through console commands. This is one of a few Sun Fire spells she's been working on, a total of 4 spells that she's designing based on the Sun Fire spell. Sunburst would be considered an Expert Restoration spell if obtainable in the game.

→ The first monster that the Sloads send after the crew, I call it the "Corpse-Horror", is based partially on the Lurkers from the "Dragonborn" DLC. Basically, it is constructed by using numerous filled Black Soul Gems and dismembered body parts to create a flesh golem that is somewhat nimble, capable of attacking its enemies from a distance using either tendrils made from entrails or by puking acidic blood at them. A bit cliché, I know, to have gallons of blood flying around, but Necromancy isn't exactly known for being a clean practice in The Elder Scrolls. Also, this will start a sub-plot within the "TCKoT" Quest-line, involving the vile magic in question being contagious, which Zaara has just contracted.

→ In Lilmothiiti culture, the Mnemo-Li, named after Mnemoli (Magna-Ge of Timelessness), are a sub-group of Magna-Ge that they believe are the spirits of freedom from the cycle of life and death. In essence, they represent breaking the cycle to achieve divinity. In some ways, this may seem similar to the Thalmor idea that they must break "the bars" of their "prison" to achieve divinity, but Lilmothiit culture uses the idea that devotion and upholding the sacredness of the cycle is the way to escape it. In other words, defending the living, when hunting – take only what is needed, killing only when no alternative exists (or when dealing with the Undead), and not allowing suffering to continue. As such, just as many of the Lilmothiit forbid the use of Conjuration Magic (except 'Banishing' spells and sometimes 'Familiars'), they likewise forbid the use of Poisons, believing that using a Poison not only ruins the meat and pelts of animals it is used on, but that it causes unneeded suffering and is cruel.


End file.
